Charge of the Math Brigade
by Kara Wild
Summary: At the urging of her zealous math teacher, Quinn joins Lawndale High's mathletics squad. Meanwhile Daria looks into Quinn's teacher's suspicious behavior...


"Daria" is owned and copyrighted by MTV. All rights reserved. This is **not** an episode, but the best imitation of an episode that I could write. Thanks to the creators of "Daria" for providing so much rich material for fanfics....

This is the sixteenth episode of The Driven Wild Universe and my eighteenth overall. It follows

  1. "Rose-Colored Lenses," 
  2. "The Tie That Chokes," 
  3. "That Thing You Say," 
  4. "'Shipped Out," 
  5. "Andrea Speaks!", 
  6. "Cheered Down," 
  7. "None in the Family, Part One," 
  8. "None in the Family, Part Two," 
  9. "Outvoted," 
  10. "Of Absolute Value," 
  11. "Breaking the Mold," 
  12. "Surreal World," 
  13. "Erin the Head," 
  14. "Primarily Color," and 
  15. "The Age of Cynicism."

[Okay, disclaimer needed! This is only my **seventeenth** fanfic overall, not my eighteenth, as "The Age of Cynicism" has only been **partially** written. So why do I insist on listing it amongst my other fics as #15? Because long ago I determined the order in which my fics would appear, and I had reasons for feeling it would not work juxtaposed against #17 or #19. (Plus, I'd already done the Ten Spot Promo... Hmm, makes me wonder whether **I** ought to use the excuse I offered to John Berry in "Of Absolute Value." ; >) TAOC probably won't arrive until after I've written #19, but it **will** arrive. All my fanfics shall be accounted for. Until then, I've left a short teaser for it in my Postscript. ; >]

Once again, this title is a pun on the title of a superior, far more famous work: Tennyson's "The Charge of the Light Brigade" (_1854_). That poem was about a brigade of British cavalrymen, set during the Crimean War. It has almost nothing to do with the subject of this fanfic... but hee-hee, I just love title puns... ; > 

I give it a 2S...

And because the second half of Season Four is airing, I must offer a reminder: Quinn, as she appears in this fic, is the result of careful build-up, stretched out over a year, in my continuum. If you try to connect her smoothly to how she comes across in Season Four, some things **obviously** won't fit. That said........... Enjoy!!!

**Ten Spot Promo:** That guy sits on the toilet lid, cutting his toenails as the clock counts to 10. Yeeeeeeech. 

[intro theme music...................]

# CHARGE OF THE MATH BRIGADE

_by_

## Kara Wild

* * *

**ACT ONE**

SCENE 1 (_Lawndale High, during class_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of the inside of Mr. Phelps's classroom. The period is nearly over, and instead of working, the students are huddled together, talking. Or rather, they're huddled around Quinn, talking about her. Quinn absorbs the attention with one of her typical serene smirks.) 

**TIFFANY:** (_shocked, for her_) No waaaaaaaaay.

**QUINN:** **Way**.

**STACY:** Omigod, Quinn. **Omigod**!

**SANDI:** Whoa -- contacts. Like, are you **sure**??

**QUINN:** Of **course** I'm sure! My eye doctor, like, called me the other day and said that a bunch of scientist guys invented this new type of lens -- one that could **handle** my type of astigmatism.

**STACY:** Oh Quinn, I'm so **happy** for you!!! (_does an excited clap._)

**QUINN:** So within a few months, you could be looking at the new and **improved** Quinn.

(She eyes Sandi a trifle nervously as she says these last words, waiting for a response. But Sandi just cocks a brow.)

**JOEY:** Wow, so now I have **another** reason to love you.

**JEFFY:** Not **me**. **I** love you no matter **what** you wear. (_Bt. conceding_) But it **is** nice that you're getting contact lenses.

**TIFFANY:** Contacts make **such** a difference. If I, like, didn't wear **mine**, people... would think... I was... an Asian ... math **brain**.

**STACY:** Ewwww! At least when you get contacts, people will stop thinking **you're** a math brain, Quinn.

(_Quinn goes a little pale and chuckles uneasily._)

**TIFFANY:** You must be soooooo **embarrassed**. 

**QUINN:** Uh...

(The bell rings. With that, everyone but Quinn and Sandi springs up from their seats and flees the room. Still noticeably pale, Quinn turns around to face Sandi.)

**QUINN:** (_trying not to sound nervous_) So, Sandi... um, do you think I should get **blue** contacts for coordination purposes? Or, um, green ones, or should I forgo colors completely?

(_Pause_) 

**SANDI:** (_cryptic_) Hmmmmmmm...

(But before she can state an opinion, Mr. Phelps walks up and stands behind them.)

**PHELPS:** Ms. Morgendorffer? May I have a word with you, please?

**QUINN:** (_turning around abruptly_) But um... I'll be late for my next class. (_weak chuckle._)

**PHELPS:** (_raising a brow_) Since when do **you** care about being on time?

(Quinn frowns at his presumptuousness, then wilts, as he has a point. She turns back to look at Sandi, but finds that she's disappeared. With a weary, yet not terribly resistant expression, she faces the teacher with whom she has worked intensely for several weeks.)

**PHELPS:** (_sitting on the desk beside her_) This will only take a minute. It's about your current academic standing in my classroom.

**QUINN:** All **right**, all right, tell me the truth. I'm not doing well, **okay**??

**PHELPS:** Well you -- 

**QUINN:** (_melodramatic_) Go ahead. Do your **worst**. You can't hurt me, anymore. (_gestures at her eyes._)

**PHELPS:** Yes, I've heard the newest contact lenses have special anti-teacher reflectors.

**QUINN:** (_thought VO_) **Funny**.

**PHELPS:** (_hint of a smirk_) I'll be gentle with you. Believe it or not, all of the hard work we've put in together has garnered results.

**QUINN:** (_wary_) How so?

**PHELPS:** You're **above** the minimum needed to pass my class.

**QUINN:** I am??

**PHELPS:** Yes, but --

**QUINN:** (_hopping up_) You mean the slavery's **over**?! (_cheery._) Not that I haven't enjoyed working with you, or anything, but it was, y'know, **work**. And I'd just as soon do something else. (_turns toward the door._) Wait'll I tell Stacy and Tiffany that I don't have to--!

**PHELPS:** (_folding his arms_) So you're ready to **end** it all, are you?

(_Beat_)

**QUINN:** (_wary... She **knows** that tone of voice._) Why not? What **else** can you put me thr-I mean, what else is there for me to do??

**PHELPS:** (_even-toned_) You really thought this entire experience was terrible. You derived absolutely **no** pleasure from it.

**QUINN:** (_thought VO_) O-kayyyyyy. (_aloud._) Nope.

**PHELPS:** Didn't you?

(Something in Phelps's gaze makes Quinn reveal a nanosecond of different feeling. She wilts again.)

**PHELPS:** (_dryly amused, smirking a bit_) Ah Ms. Morgendorffer, the way you resist **anything** that challenges your thinking never fails to amaze me.

**QUINN:** (_thought VO_) Same with **your** stupid way of always thinking you can, like, see **through** me. (_aloud, pleasant._) That's **not** true. I'd **die** without any challenges. Like being President of the Fashion Club gives me new problems every week -- 

**PHELPS:** (_directing her to sit down_) And so might being part of a **different** club. Which is why I signed you up.

**QUINN:** (_frowning a little_) **Signed** me up??

**PHELPS:** Yes. (_Bt_) For the mathletics squad.

(_Quinn's eyes become saucers and her mouth drops open._)

**QUINN:** With all the **freaks**?!

**PHELPS:** With the **other** mathletes, yes.

**QUINN:** But-but **why**?!

**PHELPS:** Students who participate in mathletics receive **extra** credit in my class. I thought you might want to do as well as possible. **And** it would be a good way for you to hone your newly-acquired skills.

**QUINN:** (_helpless_) But I don't want... I mean I **said**, but --!

**PHELPS:** We've got only four more tournaments 'til the season concludes. At the very least, do attend one of our practices. (_raises a brow._) You could **always** walk away later.

(Still too overcome by shock, Quinn is unable to protest coherently. Phelps smirks and pats her shoulder lightly.)

**PHELPS:** I look forward to working with you, Ms. Morgendorffer.

(_fade-out. fade-in to: _)

SCENE 2 (_Morgendorffer house, that evening_)

(_Shot of the outside._) 

**QUINN:** (_off screen VO_) I **won't** DO it!!

(Cut to shot of her sitting in her place at the table, at dinner. She's in full tantrum mode, while Daria observes with her usual deadpan expression. Helen mills around the kitchen, phone to her ear, and Jake eats in a semi-oblivious manner.)

**QUINN:** He **can't** make me join the geeky math brigade! He **can't**, he **can't**!!

**DARIA:** That's it. Think happy thoughts, and your wishes will come true.

**QUINN:** Shut UP, Daria!!

**JAKE:** (_mouth half-full_) Aw c'mon fweetie, ih won' be fo bad. You'n me'll toth aroun' a few pro'lems, get the ol' juifes flowih' -

**DARIA:** And prove to the world that brains can sound just as incoherent as the regular losers.

**HELEN:** (_sitting down_) **Daria**. Quinn, sweetheart, think of what a wonderful opportunity it is for you. A chance to **challenge** yourself and perhaps build up your application for college. Not that I'm--

**QUINN:** Did you people NOT hear what I SAID??! That club is full of **geeks**! Nerds, rejects, people who lack proper knowledge of follicle hygiene. He **can't** banish me to that popularity Siberia! I'll, like, **freeze** to death like those Donner people over there.

**DARIA:** Right after they scaled Mt. Everest.

**HELEN:** (_rolling her eyes_) Oh **honestly**, Quinn, it won't be **that** bad. **Right**, Daria? (_appeals to her with the expression: "**Will** it??"_) 

(_Daria sighs._)

**DARIA:** As a card-carrying member of the geek society, I can assure you she has nothing to fear. We only accept **genuine** nerds, not the superficial dabblers. **We** have standards, too, you know.

**QUINN:** (_hopeful_) You really mean it??

**DARIA:** Yep. And considering how you've managed to weather glasses without permanent damage to your popularity, I think you'll come through **this** unscathed, too. 

(_Quinn's posture starts to relax._)

**DARIA:** (_smirk popping up_) But then again, I've heard mathletics can steer even the most stubborn airhead toward a career as a tax attorney.

(Quinn's jaw drops, and Helen and Jake send Daria a "Thanks a **lot**" frown.)

(_fade-out. fade-in to: _)

SCENE 3 (_Lawndale High, a few days later_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of the inside of a large classroom. There, we see Daria and Jane seated in the back, watching the activity in front. Jane is sketching like mad. Up front, several people -- math "brigaders" -- are gathered around a long table.)

**DARIA:** I don't get it, Jane. But wait -- since Quinn always does the exact opposite of what I'd like **or** respect, I **do** get it.

**JANE:** Get **what**?

**DARIA:** Quinn's not **so** oblivious that she can't see math could really get her somewhere. Why else would she work to bring her math grade up?

**JANE:** Threat of parental retribution?

**DARIA:** Which would be as effective as the countless **other** times they've threatened her, only to be ignored. (_Bt_) She might as well just go the extra mile and do what she needs to do. It won't make her any less popular.

**JANE:** (_smirking_) Oh you **think** so, eh?

(She pushes her drawing toward Daria. Cut to close-up. There, we see what looks like exaggerated caricatures of three guys. Cut to shot of the same three in real life, and we see that Jane's sketches are **not** exaggerated. If the word "geek" were made for anyone, it would be for them. One of the three is Barry from "'Shipped Out," carrying a trademark stuffed animal on his shoulder. All three guys wear pocket protectors and sashes with the school's colors, as well as carry giant calculators that resemble computers. And all three are squabbling.)

**BARRY:** (_squeaky Corey voice_) Clarence, it's **patently** obvious you should have said X equals negative twenty-three over three, **not** X equals seven and two thirds!

**CLARENCE:** (_perpetual stutterer_) B-b-but B-b-barry b-b-b-b --

**SQUIGGLEY:** (_"aw shucks" nerd_) Aw c'mon, Barry, I mean gee whiz, Clarence was probably just nervous, I mean I can't read his mind or nothin' so I don't want to assume, but gosh I dunno...

**BARRY:** (_peevish_) So what if he was nervous, Squiggley? Because of Clarence, we didn't get those two points and Oakwood mopped the floor with us!

(_Both Clarence and Squiggley shudder._)

**SQUIGGLEY:** (_meek_) My butt still hurts.

**CLARENCE:** Th-th-they used m-my t-**tongue**.

**BARRY:** Then they said my Taxidermy Society was comical and disturbing. Oh the pain! (_Bt_) Well we can't keep getting beat like this, men! Remember which school is coming up.

**CLARENCE:** (_look of terror on his face_) N-n-n-n-n-n-noooo!

**SQUIGGLEY:** (_mumbling_) Please don't say it... **please** don't say it... PLEASE don't say it --

**BARRY:** Grove Hills.

**CLARENCE & SQUIGGLEY:** AGH!

**BARRY:** You know how seriously **those** nerds take their mathletics. They'll crucify us unless we stick together. (_raises his sash._) We must wear the Lawndale colors with pride!

**CLARENCE & SQUIGGLEY:** (_raising their sashes_) Here h-here!

(They click calculators in a salute, then butt heads, which causes all three to groan and stumble backward. Resume shot of Daria and Jane.) 

**DARIA:** To think you tried to set me up with him.

**JANE:** **Must** you keep beating me over the head about that?! 

**DARIA:** Yes. 

(Just then, cut to shot of Phelps entering the classroom. He carries himself with his usual stiff air - perfectly upright, each leg sticking straight out in front with each step he takes. Over one shoulder rests his coat, which he holds onto rigidly with his right arm.)

**DARIA:** (_off screen VO_) Say, has Buckingham Palace reported a guard missing?

**JANE:** Haven't checked. But even so, Phelps wouldn't resume the position. He's found his **true** calling sucking the life out of **every** math problem he finds.

(_Resume shot of Daria and Jane._)

**JANE:** Rumor has it he's smiled once, just **once**, since he came to Lawndale. When he was chastising a student for failing to round a decimal point to the nearest one-thousandth.

**DARIA:** Wow. Not only relaxed, but **understanding**, too.

**JANE:** He's actually not **so** bad. To me, anyway. But I sure as hell never had to work so hard for a C in my entire life.

**DARIA:** Sounds as though he should have asked **you** to join the mathletics squad.

(_Beat_)

**JANE:** (_frowning a little_) Yeah. (_Bt_) But hey: where's the little Geek in Chic? Aren't we here to torture her?? (Cut to shot of Quinn in the hallway, talking to Stacy and Tiffany, looking rushed.)

**STACY:** (_nervous_) I don't know, Quinn. I mean do you really think Tiffany and me can hold a meeting by ourselves?

**QUINN:** (_taking her by the shoulders, reassuring_) Of **course** you can! I have total faith in you guys. Didn't Tiffany do a good job when she was acting president the **last** time?

(Remembering the disaster in "Of Absolute Value," Stacy and Tiffany exchange panicked looks.)

**TIFFANY:** Buuuuuuuuuuuuuut --

**QUINN:** Listen guys, I have to run, or I'll be late to my grandma's funeral. Ciao! (_does a little wave, which Stacy and Tiffany timidly return._)

(After they leave, Quinn watches them depart, then slips into the girls' bathroom.)

(Fade-out. Fade-in to a short time later. Quinn strolls into the classroom, wearing a disguise, consisting of a brown tweed jumpsuit and scarf, glasses with tinted lenses, and her hair done up. With the air of a thirty year-old, she approaches the table where the three guys are sitting.)

**JANE:** (_off screen VO_) Now **who** does she think she's trying to fool?

(Barry, Clarence, and Squiggley quit talking and just stare at Quinn. She in turn freezes, then presses up against the blackboard in an attempt to look as inconspicuous and aloof as possible.) 

**DARIA:** (_off screen VO_) Whoever it was, it didn't work.

**CLARENCE:** (_whispering to his buddies_) Wh-wh-who's **that**?

**BARRY:** (_whispering_) She **can't** be real! She's too beauuuutiful!

**SQUIGGLEY:** (_to Barry_) Go **talk** to her. (_Bt_) Um, I mean, if it's not too much trouble, or nothin'.

**BARRY:** I shall! Um, as representative of the mathletics squad, it's my **duty**.

(Cut to shot of Quinn, looking **very** uncomfortable. Her face blanches as Barry approaches.)

**BARRY:** Um... (holds up his hand with the middle two fingers spread apart, then makes a bunch of gurgling sounds.)

**QUINN:** EWWWWW! I mean (_French accent._) **ouuuuuuuu**.

**BARRY:** I greet you with the traditional Kling'on welcome. My Kling'on name is Smartok, but you may call me by my Earth name -- Barry Bukowski. And what is your name?

**QUINN:** (_whisper_) Oh God, **please** kill me now.

**BARRY:** Huh??

**QUINN:** (_**bad** faux French accent_) Um... urm... zee name, eet ees... um... **Simone**. Uh yes -- I mean **oui**.

**BARRY:** Ohhhh, neato. (_irritating laugh._) So do you visit America often? Y' know around here, I'm considered **quite** a catch.

**QUINN:** Ugh!!

(_Cut to shot of Daria and Jane wearing wicked smirks._)

**DARIA:** Even my fondest dreams of Quinn's humiliation never went so well.

(Resume shot of Quinn and Barry. Quinn looks, quite literally, like she's going to die.)

**QUINN:** Uh...

**PHELPS:** (_off screen VO_) Ms. Morgendorffer, you've made it.

(Pan over to show him with a bunch of students in another corner of the classroom.)

**PHELPS:** Do settle in and make yourself comfortable. Get to know your teammates. (_Bt_) Everyone, Ms. Morgendorffer will be joining you for an indefinite length of time.

(_Cut to shot of Clarence and Squiggley._)

**SQUIGGLEY:** Ms. Morgendorffer?

(_Cut to shot of Quinn and Barry._)

**BARRY:** **Quinn**?? Quinn **Morgendorffer**??! (_He immediately starts hyperventilating and stumbles away._)

**QUINN:** (_to herself_) Now I understand: I'm **already** dead. I've gone to hell. (_looks away, sees Daria and Jane._) Oh **Gawd**!

(_From their perch, Daria and Jane wave to her._)

**QUINN:** (_putting a hand over her eyes_) Hghhhhhhhh... (_Suddenly she feels a tap on her shoulder._) Oh **Gawd**, no more! I can't take anymore!

**VOICE:** Quinn? What's wrong?

(Quinn turns. Pan over to show Jodie, also wearing the mathletics sash. Quinn grabs her by the shoulders and practically shakes her.)

**QUINN:** Oh Jodie -- thank **God**, someone popular. You have to get me out of here!

**JODIE:** (_surprise_) Why are you even **here**? Is the Fashion Club designing new logos for our sashes?

**QUINN:** Phelps **made** me join. I had no choice!

**JODIE:** (_more surprised_) Did I just hear right? He made **you** join?? 

**QUINN:** Don't say it so **loud**! (_glances anxiously at the door._) So I s'pose this is, like, one of your **gazillion** clubs?? You know, Jodie, if you help me escape, I can make you an honorary member of the Fashion Club, which would look **much** better on any applic--

**JODIE:** (_"As **if**"_) That's really nice of you, but the Fashion Club won't give me extra credit in math. I only have a **ninety-five** in Phelps's class.

**QUINN:** (_sarcastic_) Oh **poor** you. 

**JODIE:** (_rolling her eyes_) C' **mon**, it'll be okay. Barry, Clarence, and Melvin aren't too bad once you get to know them...

(Fade-out. Fade-in to a short time later. Quinn is seated at the table, scribbling away on a piece of paper. Her concentration is disrupted, though, when Clarence, who sits to one side of her, accidently bounces his pencil too hard on the table top, causing it to fly upward and land in Squiggley's ear.)

**SQUIGGLEY:** Agh! I've been **stabbed**! (_jumps up in a panic._)

**CLARENCE:** S-s-sorry m-ma --

**SQUIGGLEY:** Golly, I feel my whole life passin' before my eyes. Alas, poor Squiggley, they knew me well. (_sniffles, then grows pale, like he's close to passing out._)

**BARRY:** Head between your knees!

(Squiggley nods and tries to do so while still standing, which causes him to sway and nearly fall over. Jodie gets up from her seat and, with the patience of a mother who's used to dealing with whiny children, walks over to him. She leans over and plucks the pencil out of Squiggley's ear.) 

**JODIE:** You had the **eraser** end in your ear, Melvin. You aren't dying.

**SQUIGGLEY:** (_sniff_) I'm not?? (_Bt. meek_) Gosh, thanks. You've saved me from an early grave.

**JODIE:** Um... any time. (_shakes her head, walks away._)

(_From her seat, Quinn rolls her eyes._)

QUINN: "Not too bad once you get to know them, she says..." **Ha**. (puts the last touches on a problem, then pushes the paper forward with disgust.) **Ugh**! It's fixed, all **right**?! I'm done.

(Phelps looks up from where he is sitting, which is not far from where Daria and Jane are sprawled out. He pulls out a stop watch, stands up.)

**PHELPS:** And in record time, I see. (_He walks over to Quinn, leans over her paper to examine the work._) Hmmm -- nice penmanship as always, Ms. Morgendorffer.

**QUINN:** You know I only like to work with **cute** numbers. And too many eraser streaks, like, make the paper look **really** unattractive.

**PHELPS:** (_a faint, knowing smirk_) And **correct** as always.

(The other mathletes pause in their activities and look at Quinn. Barry, Clarence, and Squiggley's eyes bug out, while Jodie can't conceal an impressed smirk. Cut to shot of Daria and Jane.)

**JANE:** (_vaguely impressed_) Whoo-hoo -- that's ten in a row. The girl is on a roll. (_She does a weak fist pump, then yawns._)

**DARIA:** (_distant_) Yep. 

(Jane glances at her briefly before closing her eyes. Daria has been seated upright and watching Quinn intently. The expression on her face can be described as... strange. It's not animated, but not her usual deadpan either. Rather, it could be described as stunned, maybe even conflicted. Resume shot of Quinn, Mr. Phelps, and the other mathletes.)

**QUINN:** (_scornful_) How many of these things do you guys **do** at a meeting??

**PHELPS:** That one will be your last. For now. (_He steps away from where she is sitting and addresses the other mathletes._) Well I think that confirms it, don't you agree?

(_The mathletes nod. Then some get confused looks on their faces._)

**BARRY:** Um... confirms what?

**PHELPS:** That this girl will be a fine addition to our squad.

**BARRY:** Oh yeah!

(_He gives Quinn a lovesick look, and more nods are seen all around._)

**PHELPS:** Fine enough to deserve first chair.

**BARRY:** Yeah! (_Bt_) Wait a minute. Um...

**JODIE:** (_frowning_) Mr. Phelps? (_Bt_) You want to take first chair away from Barry?

**PHELPS:** Well I wasn't aware it **belonged** to him, but yes. Do you object, Mr. Bukowski?

**BARRY:** Uhhhh... (He looks as though he does, but then he turns to Quinn, who appears completely shocked.) Of course not! She can have **anything** she wants! 

(Jodie sighs heavily. Meanwhile Daria and Jane have been listening in, Jane looking more alert.)

**DARIA:** (_trying not to sound jealous_) Wow. First meeting, first chair. Looks like Quinn's powers over the opposite sex extend to math teachers. Just imagine if she actually got **along** with him.

**JANE:** She **did** get all those problems right, though.

(_Resume shot of Quinn, Jodie, the other mathletes, and Mr. Phelps._)

**JODIE:** Permission to speak my mind, sir?

**PHELPS:** Go ahead.

**JODIE:** We're going up against some really tough schools over the next few weeks. And Quinn's untested. How will she even know what to do??

**PHELPS:** An important question, Ms. Landon. (_Bt_) And my only response is that you test her out before then, hmm?

**QUINN:** (_outraged_) But who says I even WANT to be tested?! This was supposed to be **one** meeting and then I was **through** with worrying about math.

**PHELPS:** (_with patience, accustomed to dealing with Quinn's volatile personality_) Yes, well now you're presented with a new challenge, aren't you? One that perhaps you shouldn't look your nose down upon. (_to the group._) Listen, it's **you** all who are the mathletics squad, and it's **you** who will be working together. I'll leave this as a choice to make amongst yourselves.

(_With that, he leaves them alone._)

**END OF ACT ONE**

[Shot of Squiggley hopping around with the pencil in his ear, followed by shot of Quinn appealing to Sandi, followed by shot of Daria smirking at Quinn at the dinner table.]

You are now entering commercial **HEAVEN**. Laaaaaaaaaaaaa... We're so very happy to have you with us. Just sit back and let yourself be soothed by some of the grooviest commercials put on television.

  * "Next Wednesday, on the Ten Spot: Will Jake's attempts to get closer to Helen drive them further apart? Will DeMartino be able to reclaim the school that was taken from him? Find out next week on an all-new 'Daria.'"

* Dammit, this is the funniest commercial I've seen in a long time! "I am not a secretary; I'm an **administrative assistant**. I am not a plain M I am a **milk chocolate** M&M. I am not a cheerleader; I'm an **athletic supporter**. (_Bt_) What??" A great twist on our society's tendency to make everything politically correct.

* Okay, this one's been on for a while and everyone's prolly sick of it, but I just **had** to get this comment in: finally a GAP commercial gets done **right**! Dancers moving to the music of "West Side Story" sure as hell beats a bunch of zombies twitching to 
80's tunes...

[Random aside: if you want to know much San Francisco had sold its progressive soul, look no further than the GAP store on Haight-Ashbury! As Tiffany would say: "That's sooooooo **wrong**."] 

You are now leaving commercial **HEAVEN**. Y'all come back soon now, ya hear?

## 

CHARGE OF THE MATH BRIGADE

* * *

**ACT TWO**

SCENE 1 (_Morgendorffer house, late evening_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of the living room. Daria sits on the couch, reading a book, while Quinn stalks about behind her.)

**QUINN:** (_nose wrinkled, Phelps imitation_) "Yes, well now you're presented with a **new** challenge, **aren't** you? An' **I** know what's best for you 'cause **I**, like, know everything an' you know **nothing**, don't you?" That **jerk**! He makes me **so** mad! (_She collapses on the couch, face down, and pounds on the cushion._)

**DARIA:** (_cocking an eyelid_) The painful life of a genius.

**QUINN:** (_raising her head_) Leave me **alone**, Daria! **No** one tells Quinn Morgendorffer what to do!! **No** one!!! (_Bt_) Well okay, Sandi did, but I didn't **really** follow her; I just **pretended** to so she wouldn't think I was disloyal, but all a long I was just biding my time 'til --

**DARIA:** (_annoyed_) Listen, that teacher of yours, he didn't **tell** you what to do. Ignoring your utter lack of experience, he handed you a top-level position. No matter **how** good you might be at math, that counts as a break.

**QUINN:** You don't have to tell **me**, Smarty. Like, I **know** what a break is!

**DARIA:** Having had more than your fair share.

**QUINN:** Well I don't **care**! (_face trembles a little._) Just when it seemed like things were getting **good** for me, just when it seemed like stuff would go back to **normal**... (_The rest of her sentence is lost in a sudden gasp-sob._)

**DARIA:** Normal as in "popularity: good, thinking: bad," right? (When she sees that Quinn is too choked up to respond, her voice takes on a gentler tone.) You still believe that? Don't you remember what I said when you first got glasses? (_Pause. sigh._) Look, so don't go to the other practices, then. Return to your fashion minions: they're probably lost without you.

**QUINN:** But even so they might **still** find out I went to **one** of the geek brigade practices and then they'll think I'm **really** into math -- which I'm **not**, by the way -- and then I'd never live it **down**! And then they might go back to Sandi. 

**DARIA:** Aren't you and she --?

**QUINN:** Sure, Sandi and I've been getting along great lately -- almost like sisters. But she hasn't said anything about rejoining the Fashion Club and she's not around as much anymore. (_Bt_) Which means she **must** be up to something.

**DARIA:** Of course.

**QUINN:** (_blinking back tears_) It'll be **just** like it was during the Fashion Club Elections! Only **this** time when I get abandoned, I won't have cheerleading to fall back on. (_buries her face in the couch._) I'm doomed. **Doomed**, I tell you! 

**DARIA:** Yes. Doomed to follow a path that could bring you future success. (_Bt_) Or **would** it?

**QUINN:** (_lifting her head slightly_) Huh?

(_Beat_)

**DARIA:** (_coy_) How do we **really** know you're so good at math? 

**QUINN:** (_sitting up_) What d' you **mean**?? You've seen me in action, haven't you??

**DARIA:** I've seen that you've gotten a few math problems correct. But what does that prove? (_can't resist smirking._) How do I know your success isn't just a **hoax** perpetuated by you and your math instructor?

**QUINN:** (_wounded_) It's **not**! I really **am** good. I give poor pathetic math problems a second chance at **life**!

**DARIA:** Huh??

**QUINN:** Broken and unbalanced, the numbers cry out: "Quinn! Quinn! Only **you** can fix me!" And I strive to find an ensemble that works for them.

**DARIA:** O-kay.

**QUINN:** And I'm **better** at finding a number ensemble than **anyone** else. So you **see**?? I **am** good!

**DARIA:** No, I don't see. A few problems right: all just dumb luck in my opinion.

(She chooses this opportunity to stand up and saunter out of the room, hoping that Quinn will take the bait. Quinn scowls after her.)

(_cut to: _)

SCENE 2 (_Barry's house, one afternoon after school_)

(Shot of the outside: a nondescript split-level house. Cut to close-up of a cute little squirrel with shiny eyes. After a few seconds, when the squirrel fails to move, we realize that it is actually stuffed. Zoom out to show an entire array of stuffed squirrels and birds, arranged in a faux nature setting along a wall of the dining room, where Barry and the math brigaders have gathered. Jodie views the scene with a slight frown.)

**JODIE:** Barry? Is your mother **okay** with you spreading your hobby throughout the house? 

**BARRY:** My mom's been touring the country as a Captain Janeway look-alike, so she hasn't noticed. (leans forward, attempts a "Come hither" expression that fails miserably.) What do **you** think, Quinn?? 

(_Pan over to show Quinn, looking pale and distressed._)

**QUINN:** Oh God, those cute animals. Those **poor** cute animals!

**BARRY:** Oh boy! I knew you'd like it!

**QUINN:** Let's just get this meeting **over** with, okay?? (_groans._) How does this geek squad **work**??

(Quinn's insult appears to fly right over Barry, Clarence, and Squiggley's heads, but it causes Jodie to roll her eyes.)

**JODIE:** (like she can't believe she's explaining this to **Quinn** of all people) There are five main chairs on the mathletics squad, plus chairs for the alternates. Barry was first chair, I was second, Clarence third, Melvin fourth, and Cheryl fifth. (_with slight annoyance._) We **thought** when Cheryl left with mono, an **alternate** would fill in for her. But since **you're** here --

**QUINN:** (_cringing with disgust_) Do we **all** have to wear geeky pads and a helmet like **that** guy?? (She points to Clarence, who looks as though he's ready for the Demolition Derby.)

**BARRY:** Clarence likes to be protected from paper cut injuries. Those corners only **look** innocent.

**CLARENCE:** Y-y-**yeah**.

**SQUIGGLEY:** Maybe **I** should get a helmet, too. (_rubs his pencil-injured ear._)

**JODIE:** (_to Quinn_) But anyway, as first chair, it's important for you to get our team off to a good start. You'll have to be on the ball, sharp-minded, calm under pressure. (_wary._) Think you could handle that?? (_Quinn gives a slight, apathetic nod._) We begin with a one-on-one section, followed by a group --

**QUINN:** (_bored, curt_) Look, all I wanna know is what's at **stake**?? Like, who's really gonna **care** if we don't win??

**JODIE:** Mr. Phelps will care.

**QUINN:** (_eyes narrowing_) If **he** cares, I **don't** care.

**JODIE:** I don't know, all right? (_lowers her voice._) Look, **no** one watches our tournaments. Not even Mack, and he's my boyfriend. And truthfully, with all of the **other** stuff going on in my life, this is the club I care **least** about.

**QUINN:** Ooooh great.

**BARRY:** You **gotta** help us Quinn! We're meeting **Grove Hills** a week after our match against Cumberland! We hafta **beat** 'em!

**JODIE:** Beat Grove Hills? (_sits up straighter._) I'm there. 

**CLARENCE:** (_holds up a piece of paper_) Th-th-they s-s-sent us an im-mim-mim-tim-mim -

**QUINN:** Could we **try** not sounding like we're trapped in a stupid **freezer**? Gimme that. (_grabs the paper from him._)

(As the three guys gather around her and Jodie to read, they make disturbed buzzing sounds. All but Quinn appear engrossed in the message, which is written in neat black calligraphy on white paper.)

**JODIE:** (_frowning_) There once was a math club from Lawndale So convinced that it could not fail. It dawdled too often And built its own coffin. So now we'll provide it the nail.

Pleasant dreams, chumps. We'll be waiting in your nightmares. -- Grove Hills

Ugh. That sounds **just** like something Graham and those snobs would've come up with.

(Clarence goes pale and passes out, face forward, where his helmet is of no use to him. He hits his head on the table with a bang, then slides onto the floor.)

**JODIE/SQUIGGLEY/BARRY:** Oh no!

**SQUIGGLEY:** Gee whiz, must've forgotten to take his insulin.

**BARRY:** (_shrieking_) I told him, I **told** him: when you're feeling faint, head between the **knees**! Now Mom's gonna **kill** me for letting someone die in our house!

**JODIE:** (_thought VO_) Mono's starting to look **pretty** good right now. (_rolls her eyes, resigned to play den mother again._) Hold on: I know CPR.

(Before leaning over, she turns to Quinn, who looks quite unnerved by all this.)

**JODIE:** (_lowering her voice_) If you need a reason to do your best in first chair, this is it. Those guys will be dead if we don't beat Grove Hills.

**QUINN:** (_wrinkling her nose_) And that's a **bad** thing?

**JODIE:** (_after biting her lip for a split second to keep from laughing_) Look, just **try** to take your role seriously, all right? Even if you're as smart as Phelps seems to **think** you are, you still have to work hard. So **don't** slack off.

(Quinn frowns resentfully and folds her arms on the table: "Slack off?? Her??" A few seconds later, we hear the sound of Jodie gagging off screen.)

**CLARENCE:** S-s-sorry 'b-bout the uh-onions.

**JODIE:** Don't... mention it. 

SCENE 3 (_Cumberland High auditorium, a week later_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Cumberland's auditorium and stage. On the stage sit two long tables on either side, each with four seats, plus two desks in the center of the stage. The mathletes from Team Lawndale and Team Cumberland are getting prepared, and we see Quinn slumped over in a chair at one table, oblivious to everyone around her.)

**QUINN:** (_thought VO, resentful_) Slack off? Slack **off**?? I don't slack off, I never slack off. I just focus on the stuff that's important to me and being first is important to me and I'm first chair so that means I care about winning 'cause if you're first you're a winner, right? **Right**?! Why does everyone think I'm a slacker, I don't even **like** slacks cause they never show off your legs so why would I try to be something I hate?? Stupid Daria thinks **she's** so smart an' **my** smart is just "**dumb** luck," well I'll show **her** what dumb luck is when I **win**! (_scans the auditorium anxiously._) Oh God, pleeeeeease don't let me see anyone I know!

(Cut to Quinn's POV. The auditorium contains maybe a half-dozen people. But two of the people happen to be Daria and Jane. Resume shot of Quinn. She rolls her eyes.)

**QUINN:** **Great**. It's like **I'm** in prison and she's my freakin' **guard dog** or something. She'd just better not make fun of me again.

(Just then, the person who will ask math questions during the tournament comes up to her from behind.)

**EXAMINER:** Miss? (_taps Quinn's shoulder._)

**QUINN:** Agh!

**EXAMINER:** (_smiling with understanding_) Feeling nervous?

**QUINN:** **No**.

**EXAMINER:** Good. Now if I could just double-check your name. It's Quinn Morg-

**QUINN:** (_shaking her head_) No-no-no, it's... um... Gwen. Gwen **Morgan**.

**EXAMINER:** But the card says --

**QUINN:** Well it's **wrong**. 

(_Meanwhile, cut to shot of Daria with Jane._)

**DARIA:** (_muttering to herself_) Twenty bucks. I should've asked for fifty. 

**JANE:** (_sardonic_) Honestly, if I'd **known** a bag of peanuts would cost four bucks at this thing, I wouldn't've come. (_sigh._) These mathletic events are charging **way** above of the average Joe's price range.

**DARIA:** Well maybe the sideshow will make up for it. (_looks off screen, cocks an eyelid._) His Excellency has arrived.

(Cut to shot of Phelps roaming around beside the table, examining every fine detail with cool eyes and a stern expression. He freezes at one corner of the table and jostles it with one quick movement of his arm. He scowls.)

**PHELPS:** (_to the Examiner_) **Sir** these table legs aren't fitted according to regulations. I detected a slight wobble.

**EXAMINER:** (_tired... having dealt with Phelps and his ilk before_) It's just your imagination, mister. We make sure our tables are perfectly **straight**.

**PHELPS:** Yes, well if one my students' exam papers should happen to slide off, not to mention any **injuries** they could incur, I won't hesitate to contact the authorities and complain --

**EXAMINER:** All **right**, all right. (_smiles angrily._) I'll have someone **fix** the legs.

(Phelps scarcely hears him, having already turned his attention to a bundle of pencils lying on the table. He picks one up, examines it closely.)

**PHELPS:** And these are 4B pencils. You **do** realize that the softer lead of a 4B pencil greatly increases the amount of **streakage** on the paper.

**EXAMINER:** (_grumbling_) It's easier to erase.

**PHELPS:** But the erasures will be **sloppy**, and in a tournament such as this, legibilty means everything. (_waves the pencil at the Examiner as he says this._) 

(_The Examiner mumbles something incomprehensible._)

**DARIA:** (_off screen_) Why do I get the feeling he's only obsessed with this tournament because all the really **good** dictatorships have been taken?

**JANE:** (_off screen_) Not quite. **Cuba** might soon have an opening.

(Cut to shot of Quinn. She's been near Phelps this whole time, but has been too absorbed in her own dilemma to acknowledge him with her usual irritation. Pan over to show Barry, Clarence, and Squiggley gathered a short distance away, looking at her with concern.)

**BARRY:** Pooor Quinn. So beautiful, so distressed. I'd take on the entire **Borg Collective** if it would make her feel better.

**SQUIGGLEY:** Uh, maybe you could go reassure her, or something. If that's all right with you.

**BARRY:** I've **tried** talking to her. But alas, she's as cold and proud as Seven of Nine.

**SQUIGGLEY:** But gee, um, she might really start to like you if you talk to 'er...

**BARRY:** I don't know...

**CLARENCE:** Dammit man, just DO it!!!

(Both Squiggley and Barry look at him with utter shock. Then Barry nods and quickly scampers over to Quinn's side. He holds out something small and fuzzy.)

**BARRY:** **Here**, Quinn. How'd ya like my lucky rabbit's foot for good luck?

**QUINN:** (_snide_) Did you, like, **kill** the rabbit and stuff it first? 

**BARRY:** Oh **no** -- I only stuff **whole** rabbits.

**QUINN:** Ewwwwww! 

**BARRY:** See, it's for rubbing when you get nervous --

**QUINN:** Look, would you just **leave** me alone?? Just 'cause we work together does not mean we have to exchange **non**-math related dialogue. (_Bt_) And I am **not** nervous! 

(As she turns away from Barry, she catches the determined gaze of her beloved math instructor. Quinn's face goes a shade paler and she swallows hard.) 

(Fade-out. Fade-in to a short time later. We see that the competition is ready to start and mathletes are in position. Quinn and the Cumberland first chair sit at the isolated desks in the center of the stage, while their teams sit at the tables on either side. The Examiner stands before them at a podium. Cut to close-up of Quinn. Her eyes are wide and her face is pale. Her pencil trembles slightly.) 

**QUINN:** (_thought VO_) I'm not nervous, oh no, I'm not nervous, not nervous me. That's just ridiculous, me nervous. Oh God... oh God... oh God... oh God-oh God-oh God-oh God-oh God. Ogodogodogodogodogodogodogodogodogodogodogodogodoh -- 

**EXAMINER:** First question.

**QUINN:** (_thought VO_) Oh God can I do this? Oh God am I really **good** enough?? Oh God I wish this was Cashman's and I was selecting a designer ensemble for summer evening wear. There are **so** many cute dresses out now, and open-toed shoes are arriving in an **unlimited** number of styles... (_Pause_) **Wait** -- did he just ask the question? (_Bt_) He must've, 'cause I'm writing. I'm writing, my hand is moving, I'm writing something. But **what**?!

(Cut to shot of Daria. She's leaning forward slightly in her seat, wearing the same odd expression as she did at the practice. Cut to shot of Mr. Phelps, watching with focused eyes and an unreadable expression. Resume shot of Quinn. She slaps her pencil on the desk.)

**QUINN:** (_unnaturally high_) **Done**!

(_The Examiner saunters over to check the answer. A dramatic pause follows._)

**EXAMINER:** Correct. One point for Lawndale!

(The members of Quinn's team start clapping and cheering, with Barry and his pals going overboard, of course. Cut to shot of Mr. Phelps, a small smirk playing upon his lips. Cut to shot of Daria and Jane, with Jane clapping. Resume shot of Quinn, who relaxes noticeably and gets an "I knew it all along" expression on her face. Fade-out.)

(Fade-in to much later in the tournament, with the chalkboard revealing that Cumberland is down by a point. The five main members of each team are gathered together for the group portion, each person scribbling away on a piece of paper.)

**EXAMINER:** This is the **final** question. **Two** points for the team that answers first and answers **correctly**...

(_Cut to close-up of Team Lawndale._)

**QUINN:** (_hushed, authoritative_) All right, **I** know what to do here. I've seen this one before.

**SQUIGGLEY:** Me, too. You --

**QUINN:** No, let **me**. Here, now first you get rid of the big box thingy, set it up so one is greater than, one is less than, add three to one side... 

(Meanwhile the other mathletes are scribbling furiously. Jodie sort of glares at Quinn for her rudeness, but knows there's too little time to argue with her.)

**QUINN:** 'Kay, then you add the pointy arrow thing.

(_Beat_)

**BARRY:** Huh??

**QUINN:** The pointy arrow... you **know**, with the cute little tail.

**JODIE:** I don't follow you.

**QUINN:** (_face reddening_) Don't you guys know **anything**?? The pointy **arrow** is --

**TEAM CUMBERLAND:** (_off screen_) DONE!

**CUMBERLAND GIRL:** (_off screen_) The answer is X is a value between eleven and sixty-three! 

(The Lawndale mathletes lift their heads and await the Examiner's reply with shock and dread.)

**EXAMINER:** Correct! Cumberland wins by **one**!

(A cheer roars out from the sparse crowd. Cut to shot of Daria and Jane. Daria gets an expression of vague sympathy. Cut to shot of Phelps. His face remains expressionless, but he closes his eyes. Resume shot of Team Lawndale. All of the mathletes wear looks of frustration and defeat. Almost as soon as their defeat has sunk in do the accusations begin.)

**QUINN:** (_enraged_) **God**, don't you guys know **anything**?! How could you not know what **this** is?! (_She pushes her paper forward._) 

**BARRY:** (_surprised_) But you said **you** would explain everything.

**CLARENCE:** Y-yeah.

**QUINN:** That doesn't mean **everything**-everything. I thought math nerds at **least** knew the basics!

**JODIE:** Well maybe we **would've** if **you** knew the right terminology. That "pointy arrow thing" --

**BARRY:** Is a **greater**-than-or-equal-to symbol. 

**CLARENCE & SQUIGGLEY:** **Yeah**.

**JODIE:** Maybe if you hadn't been so **arrogant** and thought you were exempt from doing **work**, from learning little things like the correct **names** of symbols, we would've understood --

**QUINN:** All **right**, all right, **Gawd**. (Her face is now red with mortification. Being told she was in the wrong was hard enough, but Jodie's remarks really stung.) I didn't realize I was such a **lousy** addition to your **freaking** team. Well fine, after today I won't **bother** you anymore...

(With a jerk of her chair, she stands upright. Jodie and the guys eye each other with concern.)

**BARRY:** No Quinn! We didn't mean it! Pleeeeeeeeease don't go! (He jumps out of his chair and makes an unsuccessful effort to fall to his knees before her.)

**JODIE:** (_somewhat contrite_) We shouldn't've flown off the handle like that. You're still learning, it was just your first time --

**QUINN:** And my **last**.

(On her way off stage, she jumps over Barry, who'd attempted to block her path. Cut to close-up of Phelps, still standing in his corner. His eyes have shifted to the side, and he appears to be planning something.)

(_fade-out. fade-in to: _)

SCENE 4 (_Lawndale High, the next day_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Quinn strolling through the hallway with Stacy and Tiffany, looking more serene.)

**QUINN:** (_thought VO_) It's soooooo good to be with **normal** people again.

(They pass by Kevin and Brittany, who are trying to get Kevin's football-helmeted head out of his locker.)

**KEVIN:** (_whiny_) It's really, really **stuck**, babe!

**BRITTANY:** Oh **no**! My Kevvy's head'll be trapped in there **forever**!

**KEVIN:** I just hope they don't have to **saw** it off an' reattach it or nothing. That would really **hurt**! 

**STACY:** (_semi-whiny, laying a hand on Quinn's arm_) We're **so** glad you're back from donating blood for your cousin's bone marrow transplant, Quinn. Things have just been falling apart without you!

**TIFFANY:** **Look**.

(She removes that sweater she attained at the beginning of Season Four, revealing that she and Stacy are wearing the same outfits.)

**STACY:** Tiffany forgot to issue the three-day fashion forecast. Now we're **matching**!

**TIFFANY:** Does this make **me** look as fat as it makes her?

(_This wins her a rare scowl from Stacy._)

**QUINN:** (_somewhat distracted_) You guys **both** look fine. No one's gonna destroy you for matching **one** day -- as long as Tiffany keeps wearing that sweater. (_quick transition._) But say, I was wondering: remember what you said a while ago about people thinking I was (_forced laugh._) a math **brain**? Um, people, um, didn't hold it against me, did they?

**STACY:** I'm not sure. (_whiny_) Oh, but you **haven't** even heard the **worst** thing we did --!

**QUINN:** (_worried_) Not sure as in "No they didn't" or not sure as in "Maybe they did, but I wasn't there" or not sure as in "Maybe they were **going** to but I **was** there" and they know you're a friend of **me** and they've been pretending to like me this whole time so they couldn't, like, risk the whole **back-stabber** stigma? (_Bt_) **Well**?!

(Stacy and Tiffany eye each other with "What's gotten **in** to her??" expressions.)

**TIFFANY:** Wellllll... I heard Skylar say that all math brains grow up to be fat and wear baggy clothes... and if you're a girl... **no** guy will date you.

**QUINN:** (_cringing_) Oh.

**STACY:** (_soothing_) He probably wasn't talking about **you**, Quinn.

**QUINN:** Well Skylar and I are on the outs, anyway. **Like** I'd care about what he --

**STACY:** And I heard Tori tell Brooke that math brains, like, go off in a whole other world and you can't talk to them or relate to them at **all**. And Brooke said she was right.

**QUINN:** Well she's **wrong**! About **me**, anyway! Um, not that I **am** a math brain.

**TIFFANY:** No waaaaaay.

**STACY:** (_looking off screen_) Oh NO! (_starts hyperventilating._) It's **spreading**, Tiffany!

**QUINN:** (_turning to look_) What is??

(They pause in front of a group wearing jeans with waistbands that fall to mid-thigh, baggy sweaters, and backward-turned caps.)

**QUINN:** **Agh**!

**TIFFANY:** Hip hop. Everywhere... hip hop.

**STACY:** Make it STOP!

**QUINN:** What happened?? Didn't you remember our **unacceptable** fashions drill??

**STACY:** W-we **would** have...

**TIFFANY:** It wasn't **my** fault...

**STACY:** (_glaring_) Well it wasn't **mine**, either. Tiffany and me spent the meeting discussing how to coordinate the new plaid nail polish...

**QUINN:** (_rolling her eyes_) And so you **forgot** --

**TIFFANY:** To remember --

**STACY:** To, um, send out a warning about hip hop fashions. (_Bt._) You, um, weren't there...

**QUINN:** (_straining to be patient_) And what about Sandi?

**TIFFANY:** She wasn't, either.

**STACY:** (_lips quivering_) So we were al-l-lone.

**TIFFANY:** And one of those guys said I was **fat**, and, like, that was a **good** thing. (_shudders._)

**QUINN:** Can't you two do **anything** without my help?! Do I **always** have to be **watching** you?! (_She sees the stunned looks on her friends' faces and quickly retreats._) Um, uh... never mind. Look, we can **contain** this thing before it spreads to the rest of the school. We just need a plan.

(_Stacy and Tiffany nod with anticipation and relief._)

**QUINN:** First we'll --

**BARRY:** (_off screen, calling_) Qui-inn! Oh Quiiii-iiiiinn!

**STACY:** (_looking off screen_) Ewww! What does that guy **want**, Quinn??

**TIFFANY:** (_also looking_) Like he'd even stand a **chance** with you.

**STACY:** **Yeah**. (_Bt_) Quinn?

(They both turn their eyes to where Quinn was standing, only to find that she's vanished. Meanwhile, the group of hip-hoppers have spotted them and begin closing in. Stacy and Tiffany quickly forget about their president's disappearance and regard their situation with growing horror.)

**GUY:** Heyyyyyy, check out the **phat** chicks!

(Cut to shot of Daria and Jane. They're standing around outside of class when all of the sudden Quinn streaks past them and out of sight.)

**JANE:** (_like a sports announcer_) It's **Morgendorffer** in the lead with only two laps to go!

**DARIA:** She must really be upset if she's resorting to actual physical exertion.

**JANE:** About the math competition? You mean our little Material Girl isn't **happy**?? Now she can spend every **second** of her newfound freedom searching for more tube tops.

**DARIA:** Call me crazy, but I think she wanted to stay on the mathletics squad.

**JANE:** Okay, Crazy. How can you tell?

**DARIA:** Last night she kept moping over dinner about how she could've done **this** better or **that** better, how it should've been log base ten to the **eighth** power instead of log base two to the third power.

**JANE:** Come again??

**DARIA:** I just made that up to give you an idea. But she's too much of a proud, vain egomaniac to ever admit that she wants her spot back.

**JANE:** Ooh yeah.

**DARIA:** Even though that **Barry** guy keeps calling our house trying to get her to change her mind.

**JANE:** Barry?? (_cringes._) Have you changed phone numbers yet?

**DARIA:** (_rolling her eyes_) Eleven messages. Long ones. In a very... **whiny**... tone. (_sighs heavily._) It's enough to make a compassionate sibling want to tell Quinn to cut the **crap** and just do what feels right to her. (_Bt_) Too bad I'm not compassionate.

(Jane lifts a brow. Daria stands there expressionlessly for several more seconds before she finally rolls her eyes again and trudges off in the direction where Quinn fled.)

(_cut to: _)

SCENE 5 (_outside of the teacher's lounge_)

(_Shot of the outside._)

**PHELPS:** (_from inside, tense_) For the **last** time --

**DeMARTINO:** FIRST she gives you the best PARKing spot! **The-ehhhn** you mysteriously get your own REFRIGERATOR so you don't have to share with the **other** teachers and get YOUR meatball sub mixed together with someone **else's** tuna-and- egg-SALAD! 

**PHELPS:** For **your** information, I **bought** that refrigerator --

**DeMARTINO:** PUH-LEEEEEASE!

(Just at the door to the lounge starts to open, we see Quinn sweep past. She's not running anymore, but she's still moving fast and looking spooked. Right when she exits the screen, the door opens wide enough for us to see Phelps and DeMartino, giving each other evil looks.)

**DeMARTINO:** Since when can a TEACHER afford to buy any **luxuries**?? **Unless** said teacher got a big fat SALARY when he came --! **PHELPS:** (_curt_) Look, I see a student of mine whom I need to speak to. So unless you have anything **worthwhile** to say, this conversation is finished. Good day. (_He leaves quickly._)

**DeMARTINO:** (_shouting after him_) Ohhh NO, this is only the BEGINNING!!!

(Cut to shot of Quinn, who has paused to cool off, lest sweat actually pop up on her skin. Phelps strolls over to her.)

**PHELPS:** (_hint of a smirk_) Well good morning.

**QUINN:** (_in no mood to fake respectfulness_) Oh. It's **you**.

**PHELPS:** (_unfazed_) Now is that any way to greet your instructor?

**QUINN:** (_mumbling_) I dunno.

(_Beat_)

**PHELPS:** You left the scene of the competition so quickly yesterday that we didn't have the chance to chat.

**QUINN:** (_sarcastic_) Gee, too bad.

(She looks as though she wants to leave, and Phelps looks somewhat taken aback by her overt hostility.)

**PHELPS:** My dear Quinn... (_sighs._) people **do** lose sometimes. It happens to the best of us.

**QUINN:** Oh gee **really**?! Gosh, you mean you're, like, **okay** with someone smudging their **stupid** answer 'cause the table was too **crooked** and getting it wrong??!

**PHELPS:** (_smirking once more_) All right, I'll admit: I **can** get a little obsessive at times.

**QUINN:** Try **all** the time. (_She chuckles bitterly, not caring anymore what he does to her._) You're, like, the ONLY teacher I've ever **met** who wants to be perfect at **everything**. **No** one's as bad as YOU -- not Jodie Landon, not Sandi Griffin. The only other person who even comes **close** (_Bt_) is me.

(Phelps looks as though he's going to respond, but when he sees Quinn's face take on a pensive expression, he closes his mouth.) 

**QUINN:** (_pouty, frustrated_) I don't **like** it when people say I'm bad at stuff. (_Bt_) I don't like it when I think they're **right**.

**PHELPS:** And when your teammates complained about your performance, you quickly assumed that they knew you better than you know yourself. (_Quinn looks at him warily for a moment. Then she nods reluctantly._) Even though their frustration could have been directed towards **anyone** in the group, given the heated nature of the competition. (_More nods._) And you're willing to quit because you don't ever want learn if they really **are** correct, hmm?

(_Quinn starts to nod, then catches herself._)

**QUINN:** Um, **no**. No-no-**no**. It's so I don't have to worry about my friends thinking I've turned into a brainy **freak**.

**PHELPS:** What was I thinking? Of course. For one who places such emphasis on her social status, that **would** be of tremendous concern.

**QUINN:** Um, right. Concern. (An uncomfortable look crosses her face. Phelps raises his brows questioningly.) But... y'know...

(_Beat_)

**PHELPS:** (_gently prodding_) Yes?

**QUINN:** Um... y'know, I didn't **totally** hate working on those math problems or anything... (_sigh._) and being a freak is bad, but being a big **baby** is even worse. An' I don't **want** to feel that way, but it's how I **will** feel if I quit the team, especially if it's before I show... I could do better.

(_Beat_)

**PHELPS:** You really think you could improve, hmm?

**QUINN:** (_subdued_) I think so. (_Bt_) Yes.

**PHELPS:** But what about your friends?

(_Beat_)

**QUINN:** I'll just keep making sure they don't find out.

(For a moment or two, Quinn avoids looking at Phelps. But when she finally does, it's with an unusually shy expression, one that says she regrets having snapped at him earlier.)

**PHELPS:** (_smirking knowingly_) Say no more, Ms. Morgendorffer. Your spot on the mathletics squad is safe. And I'll be glad to help you achieve your goal, as I always have. 

**QUINN:** (_shy_) Thanks.

**PHELPS:** I know how you need me to keep you afloat.

(_Beat_)

**QUINN:** (_flustered_) Oh, I don't **need** your help... I can do math stuff on my own just fine. My **dad** can... 

**PHELPS:** Ah, but your father won't remind you to put aside your other activities, or that pointless **busywork** your other teachers assign you, to focus on what's **really** important. And he doesn't know all my **tricks**, does he? (_smirk deepens, as does his trademark impenetrable gaze._)

**QUINN:** (_after several conflicted expressions cross her face_) No.

**PHELPS:** And we'll put those tricks to good use, won't we? Just like all of the other times.

**QUINN:** Yeah. 

**PHELPS:** You know something, Ms. Morgendorffer, you were right: we **are** two of a kind. We both are willing to do what we can to go that extra mile, whatever it takes to win. Just as long as we **first** put our eye on that finish line.

**QUINN:** (_with more assurance than before_) **Yeah**.

(Cut to shot of Daria, who's been lurking by a corner, eavesdropping on their conversation this whole time. She's frowning, not liking what she's heard.)

**END OF ACT TWO **

[Shot of Stacy and Tiffany watching with horror as the hip hopsters come towards them, followed by shot of Phelps and DeMartino emerging from the Teacher's Lounge, followed by shot of Clarence fainting.]

You are now entering commercial **HEAVEN**. Laaaaaaaaaaaaa ... We're so very happy to have you with us. Just sit back and let yourself be soothed by some of the grooviest commercials put on television.

  * A guy plays music on a 7-UP can. That's it. At least it's better than Sprite's "Image is Nothing; Thirst is Everything," which proudly wears hypocrisy on its sleeve.

* Another Jack in the Box commercial. I know I've mentioned these in a past Commercial Heaven, but dang it they're just so durn clever. I mean who'd've thought of taking a round head with a pointy cone hat and giving it a **family life**? The one I'm thinking of, in particular, has Jack and his wife visiting Jack's parents (_Jack gets his looks from Dad, btw._). When Jack spurns Mom's request that he go 100 miles to the nearest Jack in the Box for breakfast, she cooly reminds him: "Did I ever mention how **difficult** your birth was?"  I can just imagine.

* An anti-smoking commercial that cleverly mocks those teen facial cleanser ads. Three friends try on a special tobacco, which is supposed to make their skin glow. Then one of them starts fanning herself. "Guys: it's **really** burning!" Then POOOF! she goes up in a cloud of smoke. The message then reads: Smoking Kills 1 Out of Every 3 People Who Get Hooked.

You are now leaving commercial **HEAVEN**. Y'all come back soon now, ya hear? 

## 

CHARGE OF THE MATH BRIGADE

* * *

**ACT THREE**

SCENE 1 (_Jodie's house, the beginning of a montage_)

(Shot of the outside. Sounds of the phone ringing and a click suggesting it's been picked up.)

**JODIE:** (_off screen VO_) Hello?

(Cut to shot of Jodie sitting on the couch. Split screen to show her on the left, Quinn on the right.)

**QUINN:** (_chipper_) **Hi** Jodie, it's Quinn.

**JODIE:** Hey. (_contrite_) Look, Quinn, about the competition --

**QUINN:** Oh, **don't** worry about that. I've put it out of my mind. 

**JODIE:** Maybe so, but I **still** want to apologize for the way I acted toward you. Look, you **did** do a great job for a beginner, and if we don't support each other as teammates, then we might as well just give up now. I was a real snot and I'm sorry.

**QUINN:** Oh that's okay.

**JODIE:** And you...? (_She pauses, waiting for Quinn show contrition for her own snotty behavior._)

**QUINN:** There's more? (_Bt_) Listen Jodie, I said it's **okay**; I forgive you.

**JODIE:** (_can't resist rolling her eyes_) Um, so you're back on the team? **QUINN:** **Definitely**. You need me to battle those Grove Hills freaks, don't you?

**JODIE:** (_after pausing again at Quinn's suggestion they "need" her_) Everyone needs to work together to defeat **those** jerks. (She reaches into her pocket and pulls out another slip of paper, bearing the same neat calligraphy. Jodie looks at it, shakes her head.) They've been really **nasty** this year. I don't remember them **ever** being this bad about **any** club in the past.

**QUINN:** So we'll work extra hard then -- meet every evening and on weekends, practice drills, overcome all our little weaknesses until -- 

**JODIE:** (_stunned_) You're really prepared to work **that** hard? (_reluctant._) Quinn, with all of my responsibilities, I don't think --

**QUINN:** (_smirking wickedly_) Oh come **on**, Jodie: don't you wanna beat Grove Hills? Daria once said you, like, had a **grudge** against them, or something.

(_Beat_)

**JODIE:** All right, I'm in.

**QUINN:** Great.

(Cut to shot of Barry standing on top of a step ladder, placing the last stuffed bird in a glass display, which features other birds in a faux nature setting. The phone rings several times, until the answering machine picks it up.)

**QUINN:** (_from the machine, sugary-sweet_) **Hi** Barry! Say, do you remember that message you left promising to do **anything** I asked??

(Barry leaps off the stepladder and onto the ground, knocking it against the glass case in the process. All of the birds within shake, then most tumble off of their perches.)

**BARRY:** (_before even reaching the phone_) **Yes**! Yes, my love! Just **say** the word!

(Cut to shot of Jake sitting at the kitchen table, reading the paper as usual. He suddenly drops it with surprise as Quinn walks up with a pile of text books and papers and dumps them in front of him.)

**QUINN:** (_business-like_) **Okay**, my math teacher helped me lay out a detailed plan of attack for this math stuff, so if we get started now we **might** cover it all before next Friday, the day of the competition, provided we don't do other stuff that takes too much time, like eat or sleep. Or at least provided **you** don't. (_chuckles._) Now I **think** we should get started on terminology, I was having some trouble there...

(_Jake stares at the pile of books, wearing an "Eap!" expression._) 

(Cut to shot of Quinn walking into her room later that evening. She stops to survey everything. The music from "Rocky" starts to play.) 

(She walks over to her aqua bureau [as seen in "Of Human Bonding"] which is covered with clothes and piles of Waif magazines. With one emphatic gesture, she sweeps the clothes off the top, then piles all of her Waifs together. Cut to close-up of her trunk. Quinn walks up to it, gives the Waifs one last loving look, and a kiss, then dumps them inside the trunk where they won't distract her. Cut to shot of Quinn back at the bureau. She lays her math book on its surface, looks at it with some trepidation, then slowly opens it.) (Shot of Quinn standing at the blackboard in Phelps's classroom, wearing gloves and a smock to avoid getting chalk dust on her, of course. She's gazing at the board intently, scribbling down formulas. Phelps keeps eyeing her and jotting things down on a sheet of paper.)

(Shot of the outside of the classroom a short time later. We see Daria walk slowly up to the door. But just as she reaches it, the door flies shut. Daria stands there, looking conflicted. She edges over to the door and makes a movement that suggests she's trying to eavesdrop. But quickly she straightens up, wearing a "I can't believe I'm doing this; this is stupid" expression. She shakes her head, walks away.) 

(Cut to shot of Quinn sitting at the table in Barry's house, pointing things out that she's scribbled on binder paper to the entire group. As she's focused on one of the problems, Barry slips an arm around her. Quinn gets an "EWWWWWW!" expression and shoves him away. Meanwhile, Squiggley has a hand over one eye and a whimpering expression. He slowly holds up a ruler, indicating another senseless act of violence at the hand of school supplies.)

(Cut to shot of Jake and Quinn working intensely at the table, Jake feeding Quinn questions as fast as he can, while Quinn works them out. From the living room, Helen watches with approval, Daria with wariness.)

(Cut to shot of Stacy and Tiffany standing by their lockers, watching with horror as more and more people dressed in hip hop fashions saunter past.)

(Cut to shot of Phelps's blackboard, almost every inch covered with formulas. Close-up reveals some of them: logarithms, each one more complicated than the last.)

(Cut to shot of Quinn about to take a shower, looking dragged-out after her day of work. Just then she jumps, as if hearing something loud. Cut to shot of the door as seen from the outside. Quinn runs out, looking perfectly done-up, down the stairs, to the front door where her date awaits.) 

(Cut to shot of Quinn dashing down the hall, past Stacy and Tiffany, who try to stop her. Pan over to show that she's being pursued by Squiggley and Clarence.)

(Cut to shot of Quinn and the other mathletes, this time at Jodie's house. Piles of books are everywhere, and everyone has collapsed except for Quinn, who continues to read her math book while wearing an energized, determined expression.)

(Cut to shot of her sitting at her newly-converted desk, also deeply absorbed in the math book. Cut to shot of her, some time later, checking her eyes for any new wrinkles.)

(Cut to shot of Phelps's chalkboard. Pan-over to show more problems. Pan downward to show Quinn crouched down, putting the finishing touches on an answer. With her final, triumphant stroke, the music ends.)

SCENE 2 (_Lawndale High, after school_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Daria and Jane standing by their lockers.)

**DARIA:** (_sour expression_) Then he told her he'd put his "**tricks**" to good use. 

**JANE:** So? "Tricks" don't have to be underhanded. Maybe they're just memory games or something.

**DARIA:** (_reluctant_) Could be. But the way he said it...

**JANE:** (_smirking_) You **sure** you're not over-reacting?

**DARIA:** No, I'm **not** sure. (_groans._) But there's something about that guy I **don't** like.

**JANE:** Haven't we been on this page before? The man's exacting, priggish, and arrogant -- the personality cocktail designed to make people like Daria Morgendorffer **vomit**. (_Bt_) But a user? A dirty trickster? Hate to say it, amiga, but that's going out on a ledge.

**DARIA:** (_cocking an eyelid_) Well then **this** thought will surely toss me into the void. (_sighs._) Suppose Phelps, the one whom my family **worships** for braving the journey through Quinn's haze of shallowness... suppose he...

**JANE:** Yeah??

(_Beat_)

**DARIA:** (_quieter_) **He's** the only reason she's so good at math? When I think about it, I can't remember her being great at **any** subject, let alone one where the most trendy future consists of eyestrain and a good case of carpal tunnel.

**JANE:** You don't think she might have just **found** her calling?? (_glances at Daria's lack of expression, shakes her head._) C'mon, do you **honestly** think Phelps could be so clever? He's an **educator**, for crying out loud.

**DARIA:** Maybe so, but he seems to be a snoot above every other instructor at Lawndale. I wouldn't put anything past him. (_Bt_) And consider how little we even know about this guy. Even if he **is** getting the perks DeMartino mentioned, I still don't see why he'd choose **this** hell over a cushy prep school.

**JANE:** (_shrugging_) 'Cause he's an altruist? A masochist?? Well one thing I'll say in his defense: he may be a stuffed shirt, but he's as **big** a stuffed shirt to the smart ones as to the idiots. He treats us all as equally stupid. Tom thought so, too.

**DARIA:** Tom?

**JANE:** He had Phelps. (_Bt_) Phelps taught at **his** prep school.

**DARIA:** Oh. (_Pause. mulls this over._) But that doesn't explain why he's singled out Quinn.

**JANE:** (_glancing carefully at Daria_) Maybe she really **is** a genius and Phelps just happened to see it. Maybe the sinister element you're searching for isn't there.

(_Beat_) 

**DARIA:** Well there's one way to find out.

(_She nods at Jane. Jane looks at her quizzically, then follows._)

(_cut to: _)

SCENE 3 (_Phelps's classroom, after school_)

(Shot of the exterior. The cut to the interior, which is empty except for Phelps, who is taking his afternoon tea. Just as he's accidentally spilled some biscuit on his front, Daria and Jane appear.)

**DARIA:** (_deadpan_) Careful. I hear it's murder trying to wash biscuit stains out of one's ascot.

**PHELPS:** (_merely raising a dry brow at Daria_) May I help you? Ms. Lane?

**JANE:** Um... well... (_glares briefly at Daria for getting her into this._) I was thinking: y' know, I've been toeing the line between passing and failing for some time now, and I **really** could use some extra help with math if you're willing.

**PHELPS:** Hmmm... (_somewhat absently._) I would like to, Ms. Lane, but my schedule is quite full, you see.

**DARIA:** (_hushed_) Yacht club demanding too much of your time?

**PHELPS:** (_glancing at Daria, then at Jane_) It's full. I'm sorry. But there **is** a tutoring group down the hallway if you need --

**JANE:** **Or** maybe what I need is some extra credit to boost my grade. Would you be willing to sign me up for the mathletics squad?

(_Phelps smiles thinly._)

**PHELPS:** It's not so... I **would**, Ms. Lane, but the squad is full.

**JANE:** Couldn't I be an alternate? An **alternate** to an alternate??

**PHELPS:** I'm afraid --

**DARIA:** But she's really smart. She integrates a lot of math into her paintings.

**JANE:** Compared to me, Picasso's a finger-painter.

**PHELPS:** (_straining to sound gentle_) The mathletic season is too far along and besides, you're just **not** trained.

**JANE:** I could **do** it, I swear. I just need the chance to prove myself.

**PHELPS:** I'm afraid --

**DARIA:** You won't even give her one chance? (_cocks an eyelid._) How do you know she doesn't possess some kind of hidden genius?

**JANE:** **Yeah**.

**PHELPS:** Perhaps she **does**, but as I've said before: it just **isn't** possible. I'm sorry. 

(_long Pause. Daria and Jane eye each other._)

**JANE:** (_to Phelps_) Okay... Um, thanks.

(Cut to shot of the outside of the room, a short time later. Jane and Daria walk out.)

**JANE:** (_bitter_) Boy do **I** feel like an idiot. To think I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

**DARIA:** So he **is** a hypocrite. There's a shock. Now the question remains why he chose Quinn as --

(_Suddenly Phelps pokes his head out the doorway._)

**PHELPS:** Daria Morgendorffer. I thought I recognized you.

(_Daria freezes and turns around to face him._)

**DARIA:** That's one of my many aliases, yes.

**PHELPS:** You're **Quinn** Morgendorffer's sister, aren't you?

**DARIA:** Not if **she** has anything to say about it.

**PHELPS:** Ah, but you are. Aren't you?

(Daria expects him to say something more, but he disappears back into his classroom.)

SCENE 4 (_Barry's house, evening_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of the mathletes gathered around the table again. The three guys look frazzled and bewildered. Barry is writing frantically as Quinn paces the room, wearing a task-master expression. Clarence just sits there with a vacant expression, and Squiggley scratches his nose with a pencil. Jodie observes everything, looking worn-out.)

**QUINN:** All right, Barry, time's **up**. What's your answer?

**BARRY:** (_a wee bit intimidated_) Uhhh... ummm... it's X equals negative seven over --

**QUINN:** **Oops**! I'm afraid we've run out of time, Mr. Bukowski. Lawndale ten, other school **eleven**. We **lose**. And have a nice day!

**BARRY:** Aww! I've **failed**! I've failed **again**! (So tired out from the constant studying, his face crumples, and he starts banging his head against the table repeatedly. Clarence and Squiggley reach over to comfort him.)

**QUINN:** Guh-yyyyyyys! We've **got** to be better prepared! If the question-asking person wants us to say our answers, he's not gonna **stand** around and listen to a bunch of **mumbling**. Clarity is **everything**. (_As the guys nod meekly, she strides past each of them._) So Barry, **practice** your delivery. You **too**, Clarence -- keep reading that anti-stuttering book I got you. And... (_to Squiggley_) you, **stop** rubbing your nose with that pencil; you could hurt yourself.

**SQUIGGLEY:** Huh? (_As he says it, the pencil goes up his nose._)

**QUINN:** (_cringing_) Ewwww!

**JODIE:** (_amused and annoyed_) Quinn, I don't think the **world's** gonna end if we don't say our answers perfectly. This is just a math competition, **not** a T.V. quiz show.

**QUINN:** (_shaking her head, a little patronizing_) "**Just** a math competition." Maybe to **you** guys, but to me, it's **so** much more. (_giggles._) Now if you'll excuse me: I'm feeling giddy and I need some air... (_She flutters out of the room._)

**BARRY:** (_when she's gone, weary_) Even during her Reign of Terror, she's beautiful.

**CLARENCE & SQUIGGLEY:** (_weary_) Uh......huh...

(Jodie looks them over and shakes her head. She stands up and leaves the room to go talk to Quinn.)

(Cut to shot of Quinn standing in the hallway, admiring the glass case of birds Barry was working on in an earlier scene. Wearing a blissful smirk, she seems unaware of the fact that she is **not** outside, nor of the fact that the birds are dead. Jodie walks up behind her.)

**JODIE:** Quinn, there's something I have to get off my chest.

(_Quinn flinches with surprise, then gets a contrite look on her face._)

**QUINN:** All **right**, all right, I **know** I've gotten carried away. Believe me, I'm **just** as surprised as you are.

**JODIE:** (_sardonic smirk_) I don't know about **that**. I've never seen **anyone** as hell-bent on success as you, and I've lived with Michele and Andrew Landon for seventeen years.

**QUINN:** It's not just the **winning** I'm thinking about anymore. (_takes a deep breath._) It's... it's... (_strains to articulate._) It's these number-thingys pulsing in my head, coming together with, like, this **rhythm** to form the perfect ensembles. It makes me feel sooooo good, like all **energized** and stuff.

**JODIE:** (_surprised... as if she's never experienced this sensation before_) Really?

**QUINN:** (_like she can't quite believe it herself_) **Yeah**. And, like, the more I work with numbers, the more I feel that way. I mean before this whole math brigade thing came up, I was working to please my dad and to keep from failing. The math problems were, like, those kinda **dowdy** girls who come up to you wanting make-over advice, and you've got this, like, gift for coordinating so why **not** help them, even if they're kind of a lost cause, so **you** don't get much satisfaction from it.

**JODIE:** (_look of confusion crossing her face_) Um, o-kay...

**QUINN:** But after we lost to Cumberland, and I started studying, it was like, just **me** and the math. Like being out on a date. **Wait** -- no... better than that. (_gets a thoughtful frown and again tries to articulate what she's feeling._) It's like I'm out shopping with my dad's platinum at, like, **the** best department store in the **world**, and I wander through the displays, discovering styles that I didn't know were **there**, but finding that they all look **really** good on me. Not that anything **doesn't**. (_chuckles._) An' the more I work with math problems, the more I feel that way. It's like I'm finding newer and **better** ways to shop.

**JODIE:** So you're really passionate about math, huh?

**QUINN:** (_with realization_) **Yeah**, I guess. And that's weird, 'cause I didn't think I could care about **anything** as much as I care about shopping.

(_Beat_)

**JODIE:** Wow, that's really great. (_wistful._) Wish I felt that way about one of my activities.

**QUINN:** An' it's like, I wanna share this feeling with the **world**. But there's no **way** I could share it with my friends, and at home **Daria's** the "smart" one, an' I think she wants it to **stay** that way. (_A dark frown briefly passes over her face._) So math competition's the only way to do it. But look, sorry if I've been running you and the geek trio into the ground. (_chuckles._)

**JODIE:** Actually, the "geek trio" was what I wanted to talk to you about. (_serious._) I realize Barry, Clarence, and Melvin are sort of strange --

**QUINN:** **Sort** of??? (_She rolls her eyes and laughs hard._)

**JODIE:** And sometimes **I** get bugged by them, but their hearts are in the right place. They've been nothing but nice to you, and the least you could do is **try** to be a little nice to them.

**QUINN:** (_resistant_) Jodie, it's not that I'm some kind of mean **witch**, but this whole being on the mathletics squad thing is pushing me dangerously close to that ledge that separates popular people from the social **rejects**. So by mocking Barry, Clarence, and the **third** one, I'm reassuring myself that I'm **me** and **not** one of them. (_She gets a satisfied look on her face._)

**JODIE:** Oh. I see. (_groans and rolls her eyes._) How could I possibly argue with such thoroughly **shallow** logic? Well fine, do whatever you want.

(She spins around and heads toward the dining room. Quinn watches her with a mixture of irritation and contrition. **She** feels she's perfectly justified in her behavior, but she doesn't want any of her teammates mad at her.)

**QUINN:** Jodie -- wait. (_rolls her eyes._) I will say **one** nice thing to them, all right??

(_Beat_)

**JODIE:** It'd be a start.

**QUINN:** But nothing that'll make 'em think I **like** them...

(Cut to shot of Barry, Clarence, and Squiggley in the dining room. Quinn and Jodie reenter, Quinn looking resigned. Jodie nods at her curtly, then turns to the group.)

**JODIE:** Guys, Quinn has something she wants to say to you.

(The guys look at her with expressions of exaggerated interest. Barry gets an "Oh please, oh PLEASE" look. Quinn shifts around with discomfort and takes a long time before saying: )

**QUINN:** You, um... don't, um, suck. For **nerds**, I mean.

(Jodie raises her brow wearily at her: "That's **it**?" But the guys look as though she's paid them the highest compliment ever.)

**BARRY:** Did you hear that?? I **knew** she liked me!

**QUINN:** (_rolling her eyes_) That's **not** what I meant --

**BARRY:** An' I was starting to wonder if I was doing the right thing, being nice to you while you were always acting so mean.

**QUINN:** (_eyes widening_) **Huh**??

**CLARENCE:** Y-yeah. (He makes an exaggerated face, with eyes widened, a scrunched-up nose, and mouth parted to suggest what Quinn looks like when she's disgusted with something.)

**SQUIGGLEY:** If you don't mind me sayin' so, or nothing, you seem like you hate everything. Kept thinking how sad it was... an' stuff. (He looks embarrassed, as though he expects Quinn to fly into a rage and start beating him over the head.)

(Jodie looks at them with an expression that's both stunned and impressed: she'd never thought they were that perceptive. She glances at Quinn. Quinn has gone quiet, and seems genuinely remorseful.)

**BARRY:** But now, we can celebrate our **togetherness**!

**CLARENCE & SQUIGGLEY:** Yeah!!!

**BARRY:** Let's go out! In honor of our last group night before we face Grove Hills! How 'bout it?? I know a **great** place for fried squid... (_looks appealingly at Jodie and Quinn._)

**JODIE:** (_for once, looking awkward_) Uh... I don't know... I should be going... (Just then, she catches a triumphant smirk from Quinn: "**Ha**: you're just as afraid to be seen with them as **I** am." She turns back to Barry and smiles.) Sure, I'd love to.

**BARRY:** And you, Quinn??

**QUINN:** (_hesitant_) Um, is it on the outskirts of town? (_Barry nods._) **Far** away from any cineplexes, malls, arcades, discotheques, comedy clubs, or liquor stores where they accept fake I.D.s?? (_Barry hesitates, then nods._) (_thought VO_) And it **is** a school night. (_sighs._) All right. I'll go.

**BARRY/CLARENCE/SQUIGGLEY:** Yeah!!!!!!!

(Fade-out. Fade-in to later shot of the five of them sitting in a dimly-lit corner of a seafood restaurant, with Quinn positioned as far away from Barry, Clarence, and Squiggley as possible. She picks at her food, but doesn't seem to be suffering **too** much. Just then, cut to shot of Sandi entering the restaurant on the arm of an unfamiliar young man. Cut to shot of Quinn. Catching a glimpse of Sandi before she's seen her, Quinn ducks under the table and hides. She waits until the coast is clear, then crawls on her hands and knees toward the nearest exit.)

(_cut to: _)

SCENE 5 (_Morgendorffer house, next evening_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Jake, Quinn, and Daria seated at the table. Daria has the paper unfolded before her, but is stealthily observing. Jake is drilling Quinn, using flash cards from a huge stack, and the frazzled expression on his face reveals he's been at it for quite some time. Quinn, meanwhile, works out the math problems on scraps of scented paper.)

**JAKE:** (_holding a card, hand trembling_) F-find all the values of X. Two cosine of X minus one equals zero... arctangent of Y multiplied by sin m-multiplied by twelve o'er thirteen...

**QUINN:** **Da-aaad**, come **on**: that doesn't make sense!

**JAKE:** I-I-I... (_lips tremble._) I before E, except after C... now I know my A-B-Cs...

(_Quinn rolls her eyes. "Dad's losing it."_)

**JAKE:** (_voice taking on a gruff tone_) What's the **matter**, son??! Can't handle a few MATH problems??! Well no **wonder** you took home the gold medal for only **one** lousy STINKING year!!! (_normal voice, angry._) Oh **boy**, it's ALL coming back to me **now**, dammit!!!

**DARIA:** (_laying aside the paper, sardonic_) **I'll** carry out the mission, soldier. You're free to take leave.

**JAKE:** (_mumbling_) Don't trust me to do this **myself**, huh?? **He** never trusted me... (Suddenly Jake's weariness gets the better of him, and he falls asleep with his head on the kitchen table.)

**QUINN:** (_rolling her eyes_) Great, just great. (_eyes Daria warily._) Okay, **you** can quiz me, then. But don't make any of your stupid comments.

**DARIA:** Moi? (_picks up the stack of cards Jake was using and looks them over._) Hmm, pretty nice penmanship. Did your teacher make these for you?

**QUINN:** Mmm-hmm. Now come **on**, I have to practice my timing.

(Instead of reading the card aloud, Daria merely holds it up for Quinn to see. Quinn rolls here eyes and groans -- obviously Daria's going to be difficult. She reads the problem and starts scribbling away.)

**DARIA:** (_realizing this is the chance to probe her a little_) You've been spending a lot of time with this guy, haven't you?

**QUINN:** Yep.

**DARIA:** (_slight smirk_) And here I thought you couldn't stand him. So what changed?

**QUINN:** (_concentrating_) Mmm, dunno. Phelps is just real persuasive.

**DARIA:** In a **good** way, I presume?

**QUINN:** **Yes**. (_slaps down her pencil, looks at Daria with suspicious eyes._) Look, **where** are you going with this?? If you're not gonna just **shut** up an' quiz me, then I'll take this upstairs to my room.

(Daria rolls her eyes, shows Quinn another card. Quinn emits another little angry groan and sets to work. Daria meanwhile, looks thoughtfully at one of the cards -- they're on the same level as the types of problems she works with in class, or maybe slightly more advanced. She flips one over on its backside, takes a pen, and scribbles a new formula, with a few more twists than the original. Prepares to show it to Quinn.)

**DARIA:** Hey, I'm merely commending your teacher for doing the impossible: getting you to push aside the Fashion Club **and** all of your other classes just to cram for a two-hour event. (_Quinn scribbles, tries to ignore her._) Someone who's **that** good with math brains ought to be voted Teacher of the Year. Assuming there **are** other math brains he gives help to --

**QUINN:** DAR-EEE-UHH!!! (_slams down her pencil, picks up a watch and glances at the time._) Would you SHUT UP?! I'm making lousy time!

**DARIA:** (_without contrition_) Oops.

**QUINN:** **All** teachers think **their** subject is the only **one**, all right?! Do you **really** believe Mr. **O'Neill** thinks of Ms. Barch's class when he gives you a stupid paper to do??

**DARIA:** Yes... and every **other** chance he can possibly get. 

**QUINN:** All right, **bad** example.

**DARIA:** Look, you have a point -- but how many teachers outright **request** that their students push aside everything else for the sake of their **one** subject? Isn't that ultimately to the student's detriment?

**QUINN:** The student's **what**? (_angrier._) Geez, Daria, what do **you** care if Mr. Phelps is a little more **driven** than the other teachers?! He's not **your** teacher.

**DARIA:** You weren't so kind to him when you thought he was controlling you.

(Just as she's finished uttering these last words, Helen sweeps into the kitchen, armed with files.)

**HELEN:** (_half-distracted, has only caught part of the conversation_) Oh **Daria**, do we have to go through this again??

**DARIA:** Huh?

**HELEN:** Don't be jealous just because **Quinn's** teacher gives her more attention than **your** teachers do you. It **doesn't** mean you're **any** less intelligent.

[*] see "Of Absolute Value"

**DARIA:** I wasn't --

**QUINN:** (_hurt expression_) That's what this is **about**, isn't it?? Your stupid questions. You're trying to keep me from **doing** well!

**DARIA:** (_rolling her eyes_) Of all the idiotic --

**HELEN:** **Daria**!

**QUINN:** Ah **ha**, you see?! She's been like this for over a **week**, Mother. First she tells me I'm not **really** good at math, that all of my success is just **dumb** luck. Then she tells me my math teacher's a big **freak**?!

**HELEN:** (_to Daria_) Did you **really** say those things?

**DARIA:** (_defensive_) **Yes**, but only because --

**QUINN:** (_tremor in her voice_) Mr. Phelps is the **first** teacher I've ever had who thought I was **smart** at something! You've been a brain your whole life; you don't know how that **feels**!

**DARIA:** (_uncomfortable_) Um, no... (_shakes her head._) But if you'd **let** me get a word in edgewise, I'd mention that I've wanted you to take school more seriously since you first got glasses. Why the **hell** would I try to undo that now?

**QUINN:** Because **maybe** all you really wanted was for me to suffer through all the loser nerd trials **you've** suffered through, just so you can go "Ha, ha, now **you** know what my life is like," an' feel all **validated** and stuff.

**DARIA:** (_a little stunned by the lucidity of her comment_) That's... just **ridiculous**.

**QUINN:** But you never wanted me to be as smart as you. (_eyes narrow._) Or **smarter**.

(Pause. Helen looks at Daria questioningly, Quinn accusingly. Daria looks as though she **wants** to speak, but in the face of sudden, conflicting emotions that leave her with that odd expression we've seen her wear earlier, she can't think of a comeback that would clear her motives. She glances down at the tampered-with card, realizing she's losing the battle.)

**DARIA:** (_rolling her eyes_) Your charges are completely **groundless**, but feel free to think what you want. You obviously will, anyway. 

**QUINN:** You wanna know what I **think**?? I think if you can't handle your **brain** territory being **approached** upon then you should just stop **helping** me!! And don't **spy** on me at the **freakin'** mathletic tournaments, either!!!

**HELEN:** (_trying to calm her down_) Quinn...

**QUINN:** JUST DON'T EVEN **COME**!!!!

(In a fit of melodramatic passion, she jumps up, pushes aside her chair, and storms out of the room. All of the racket causes Jake to stir.)

**JAKE:** (_confused_) Huh... what??

(He looks questioningly at Daria, as does Helen. Daria glances at the card with the tampered-with math problem and numbly tosses it onto the table.) (_cut to: _)

SCENE 6 (_Lawndale High, day before the tournament_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Ms. Li reading a familiar calligraphic note, looking enraged.)

MS. LI: "... And **our** youngsters will mop the floor with yourrrrr mathletes, whose intelligence is as **flimsy** as your **textbooks**!!" (_crumples the paper._) This is **outrageous**! To think I actually **sent** two of my best and **brightest** to that damn stuffed-shirt **factory**! Well neverrrrr again!

(_She tosses the note into the garbage._)

**MS. LI:** I didn't even know we **had** a mathletics squad! But when Grove Hills comes on ourrr turf, I'll have the whole **school** out cheering for our side...

(_fade-out. fade-in to: _)

SCENE 7 (_Lawndale High, afternoon of the mathletic competition_)

(Shot of the outside of the auditorium. Cut to shot of the inside, which is packed to the bursting point with students, many of whom are wearing some variety of the Lawndale colors or are waving flags. Cut to close-up of Daria and Jane.)

**JANE:** (_faux enthusiasm_) Whoo-hoo. **Another** field trip foisted on us by Ms. Li in a misguided attempt to promote school spirit. (_yawns._) Well at least we don't have to leave town this time.

**DARIA:** (_distant_) Nope.

(_Beat_)

**JANE:** **Now** what's up? Are you still thinking about Phelps?

**DARIA:** Mmm-hmm. (_groans._) Or rather, that maybe that I **am** just a wacko who's using this whole conspiracy theory to mask my bitter envy of Quinn's math talent. I can't deny I've been feeling **something** weird ever since her tryout.

**JANE:** Maybe **you're** a jealous wacko, but I'm not. I saw what happened. Phelps is a hypocrite, plain and simple.

**DARIA:** Maybe so. (_Bt_) And **maybe** he's a hypocrite because his hands are already too full with guiding a reluctant prodigy along, and he doesn't want to deal with another one.

**JANE:** Hmmm... (_cocks an eyebrow in thought._)

**DARIA:** I'd go apologize, but Quinn would never exchange words with me in public.

**JANE:** You forget, my friend: the little prodigy is about to flash her goods in front of **all** her friends, rivals, and hangers-on. If she's already caught on to what's about to occur, than she's probably ten miles away by now.

(_Daria thinks of this, and can't resist a wicked smirk._)

(Cut to shot of Quinn in one of the prep rooms backstage, eyes closed, concentrating deeply.)

**QUINN:** (_muttering_) What is two log X base ten times two X... She thinks she knows **everything**. Well I don't **care**... plus log base ten times three equals log base ten times six... I don't care, I **never** cared... **stupid** Daria!

**BARRY:** (_off screen_) You know Daria?

**QUINN:** (_looking up at him_) I wish I **didn't**.

**BARRY:** Me, **too**! She's a teaser an'-an' a **liar**! If I ever see her again, I'm gonna **tell** her off, you **bet** I will!

**QUINN:** (_impressed_) You **would**?? (_Bt_) Wow, that's, like, one of the **nicest** things anyone's ever said to me! 

(Cut to shot of Jodie. She's just peaked out from behind the curtain and gotten a whiff of the growing crowd. Wearing a slightly stunned expression, she is about to head to Team Lawndale's table when she runs into Graham -- the snobby guy from "Gifted.")

**GRAHAM:** (_smirking with superiority_) Well if it **isn't** the girl who dared to call me "loser."

**JODIE:** (_eyes narrowing, even tone_) And if it isn't the guy who did so much to **deserve** that name.

**GRAHAM:** Hey! (_angry at her quick-wittedness._) You may **think** you were smart, the way you chewed me out at that Grove Hills reception in front of my friends, but all that **ends** the moment we face off in the mathletics tournament!

**JODIE:** (_smirking_) Ooh. Should I be quivering with fear?

**GRAHAM:** (_leaning closer_) You laugh now, but just you **wait**. Our **superior** brain power's gonna blow your woefully-inadequate squad right off the stage!

**JODIE:** You sure it'll be your **brain**-power that's blowing?

**GRAHAM:** You... you... (_for lack of better words._) Um, why don't you just **shut** up?!

(He storms away to join his teammates. Cut to shot of his teammates sitting at their table, including the other two girls seen in "Gifted," Lara and Cassidy.)

**LARA:** (_snide_) God, I hope we can just get **out** of here as soon as we win. This whole school is so **banal**: it's giving me hives.

**CASSIDY:** **Yeah**. Did you **see** the size of their reading facility? About **half** as large as the gym -- and it didn't even have a Classical Scrolls of Alexandria section **or** a built-in coffee bar!

**LARA:** You can just **feel** the mediocrity vibrating across the walls. I mean **pink** pastel? What were they **thinking**??

**GRAHAM:** (_back in smirking form_) And **here** the brains are forced to mix with the **decorative** types. Like **her**. (_He points to Quinn, who has just emerged from the back room._)

(_Cut to close-up of Quinn. She freezes upon overhearing these last words._)

**CASSIDY:** (_off screen_) That's if they even **remain** brains. Constant exposure to the **common** people has **got** to have some kind of diluting effect.

(Graham and Lara chuckle in agreement. Then Graham whistles to Quinn in an effort to get her attention. Quinn ignores him and storms away, toward the curtain.)

**QUINN:** (_fuming_) "Diluting"?! As in, like, exposure to **me** sucks up **other** people's brain power?! (_Bt_) Well **I'll** show them! Thank God **no** one attends these competitions because I'm gonna show a side of myself that my friends should **not** see for their own good! (_Bt_) Though come to think of it, for an empty auditorium, it's kinda **loud**... (_She opens up the curtain and instantly goes pale._)

(Shot of the crowded auditorium from her POV. Cut to shot of Stacy and Tiffany sitting somewhere in the center, surrounded on all sides by people in hip hop fashions. In fact, almost everyone in the auditorium, except for the principal characters, is dressed in hip hop. Stacy and Tiffany glance around, utterly panicked.)

**STACY:** (_hyperventilating mildly_) Oh God... oh God...

**TIFFANY:** Just... don't... move. Maybe they won't notice us.

**STACY:** I wish Quinn was here! **Why** did her aunt have to have that **stupid** baby today, anyway?!

**TIFFANY:** What is **wrong** with that family?!

(_Cut to shot of Kevin, Brittany, and the cheerleaders, sitting up front._)

**ANGIE:** Eww, **nerds**. How're we supposed to cheer for **them**?

**NIKKI:** Do we, like, wave a pom-pom if they get the **multiplication** tables correct?

**BRITTANY:** (_shrugging_) I **guess** so. (_suddenly springs upward._) Gooooooooo **chess** club!!!

**ANGIE:** Uhh... Brittany?

**LISA:** Oh, like it **matters**.

(Cut to shot of Quinn. She drops the curtain and pulls back in absolute shock. Trembling, she starts walking off of the stage -- **fast**. She's just about down the stairs when she runs into Mr. Phelps, coming from the opposite direction.)

**PHELPS:** Ah, I hoped I'd see you before the tournament.

**QUINN:** (_speedy_) Yes, yes, the pencils are 2B and the tables are balanced. I gotta go get some air... (_tries to brush past him._)

**PHELPS:** Wait just a minute. (_holds up his hand to restrain her._) I also came to wish you good luck. (_cocks a brow._) I've prepared you thoroughly. Now it's time you showed the world what you're **really** made of.

(_Quinn nods, swallows hard._)

**PHELPS:** Are you **nervous**, Ms. Morgendorffer? (_smirks._) That **is** the name that you'll be using this time 'round, isn't it?

**QUINN:** (_nodding frantically_) Um, right... nervous... **yeah**. (_She then runs past him out the side door of the auditorium._)

(Fade-out. Fade-in to a short time later. Shot of the front of the stage, with the Examiner standing at a podium, between two tables. At one table are the five Grove Hills mathletes, sitting firmly upright with smug expressions on their faces. At the other is, of course, Lawndale. Jodie, Barry, Squiggley, and Clarence are anxiously craning their necks around, searching for any sign of Quinn.)

EXAMINER: ... and Weseley Vanderhorn will all be representing Grove Hills Academy! (As if on cue, a chorus of "booos" are heard around the auditorium. Cut to brief shot of Ms. Li in the audience, nodding her head with approval.) And to my right, we have Melvin Squiggley, Clarence Nickelson...

(_Cut to close-up of Jodie. She leans toward Barry._)

**JODIE:** (_whispering_) She's not coming. We **have** to call in an alternate!

**BARRY:** No, no... let's give her more time! Maybe she's putting on her make-up.

**JODIE:** Then we'll be lucky if we see her at **all** over the next few days. (_groans._) Come **on** Quinn... don't **do** this to us.

(Cut to shot of the bottom of the stairs. There, in the shadows, we see Quinn lurking. She seriously looks torn. She removes some prescription sunglasses from her bag and puts them on, toys frantically with her hair, trying to disguise herself well enough to fool her classmates.)

**EXAMINER:** (_off screen_) ... Jodie Landon, Barry Bukowski...

(Finally Quinn removes the sunglasses and wilts. She knows it won't do any good -- people recognized her in her disguise the last time. She glances uneasily at the stage, then closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She leans toward the door.) 

(Cut to shot of the Examiner. He looks at the last name on the card, then at the empty spot at Team Lawndale's table.)

**EXAMINER:** Well... it appears as though Gwen Morgan is a no-show. (_to Team Lawndale_) You'll have to forfeit unless you call in a replacement.

(The Lawndale mathletes eye each other, resigned. But before they can respond, we see Quinn bound on stage. She makes a beeline for the Examiner, trying not to look at the audience, and whispers something in his ear. You can pretty much **guess** the audience's reaction [even before I show it to you].)

(A chorus of gasps echoes throughout the room. Cut to shot of Stacy and Tiffany -- shocked. Cut to shot of Kevin, Brittany, and the cheerleaders -- shocked. Cut to shot of the 3 Js -- beyond shocked. Cut to shot of Daria and Jane, looking vaguely pleased. Cut to shot of Sandi, sitting on the periphery. Her face is impassive, but she cocks a brow. Cut to shot of Phelps sitting just below Ms. Li. He nods, as if he knew this would happen all along.)

(Resume shot of Quinn. Face burning, she slides into her seat and lowers her eyes.)

**EXAMINER:** (_announcing_) Filling in for Gwen Morgan at first chair will be... **Quinn** Morgendorffer!

(As if to accentuate the significance of the occasion, the microphone squeaks when the man calls out Quinn's last name. Quinn continues to look at the table top and not talk to anyone. Just then, Jodie leans over and touches her arm.)

**JODIE:** (_with some exasperation and amusement_) You **really** know how to make an entrance. (_When she sees this elicits little reaction from Quinn: _) Hey, whatever happens, you'll be fine. Good luck.

**BARRY/CLARENCE/SQUIGGLEY:** Yeah, good luck!

(Quinn can't resist a small, grateful smile. Cut to shot of Grove Hills, watching with smug amusement.)

**GRAHAM:** Oh **man**. They have **got** to be kidding? First chair to **that** girl?

**LARA:** She **probably** can't even count to **ten** without stopping to take a break.

(Quinn overhears them, of course. Sizzling indignation replaces embarrassment, at least for the time being. She turns her head toward Graham, who occupies Grove Hills's first chair, and smiles coyly. Graham can't resist being drawn in momentarily, before wrenching his eyes away to focus on his paper.)

**EXAMINER:** All right, we'll start with Logarithms. **First** question...

**GRAHAM:** (_scowling, sotto voice as the Examiner reads the question_) No way. **No** trophy chick like **that** is going to get the best of Graham T. Salinger the Third! There are **two** kinds of people in this world. Those of us with **brains** and talent to hold an **edge** over the lesser of our species, and those who were born to waste their lives away as complete **dimwits**. And **she**, without a **doubt**, is a --

**QUINN:** **Done**!

(Graham's pencil falls out of his hand, onto the desktop, as he looks at her in shock. A silence ensues, as the Examiner checks her answer.)

**EXAMINER:** Correct! One point for Lawndale.

(Scattered applause throughout the auditorium follows, particularly loud in the section where Li is sitting. On stage, Team Lawndale starts clapping loudly for Quinn. Cut to shot of Stacy and Tiffany, eyeing each other uneasily, not sure whether to clap or not. Cut to shot of Daria. She has that uneasy expression on her face again, but is nonetheless clapping slowly. Cut to shot of Quinn. She gets that steely, competitive look in her eyes again. As the Examiner reads off questions, a montage follows, accompanied by the music to "St. Elmo's Fire.")

**EXAMINER:** (_off screen_) ... Solve in terms of B. If two B minus three log base ten equals F...

(Shot of Quinn against Lara. Quinn lays her pencil down several seconds ahead of Lara, folds her arms confidently, and mouths the word "Done.")

(_Shot of the chalkboard showing Lawndale up by five points._)

(_Overhead shot of Quinn and Cassidy, frantically working out a problem._)

**EXAMINER:** (_off screen_) ... If X to the third power minus four X squared...

(Cut to shot of Team Lawndale, watching anxiously. Cut to shot of Phelps, who also appears to be watching intently. Resume shot of Quinn and Cassidy. Quinn looks as though she's about to shout "Done," but Cassidy beats her to the punch. Quinn gets a dispirited look on her face, and slides out of the first chair. As she heads down to the end of the table, her teammates clap for her effort. The Grove Hills side exchanges high-fives.)

(Cut to shot of Barry against Cassidy, sometime later. He puts up his hand to say "Done!" somehow causing his pencil to fly through the air in the process. It lands on Squiggley's pencil, causing it to fly up and hit him on the head. Squiggley looks stunned.)

(Cut to shot of the blackboard. It shows Lawndale with the lead, though narrower.)

(Cut to shot of Barry against another Grove Hills mathlete. The Grove Hills guy beats him to the punch.)

(_Cut to shot of Jodie against the same mathlete. She beats him._)

(Cut to shot of the audience. Many appear to be dozing, but others have tense looks on their faces. We see Brittany in front, unconsciously waving a pom-pom.) 

(Fade-out. Fade-in to shot a short time later of all of the mathletes gathered together in the group round. Cut to close-up of Team Lawndale. They're scribbling down formula's their papers, and by the body movements, it looks as though Quinn is one of the ones leading the way. Seconds later, all five mathletes raise their hand to show they've got the answer.)

(Cut to shot of Daria, watching, still wearing the uneasy look on her face. She claps, then, just by chance happens to glance off to the side. Cut to shot of Phelps's side profile from her POV. Daria's a distance away, so he looks slightly blurry, but we can see him moving his lips wordlessly.)

**EXAMINER:** (_off screen_) Find all the values of X between...

(_Pause_)

**QUINN:** (_off screen_) **Done**!

(Phelps smirks. Cut to shot of Daria, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. Cut to shot of Phelps from her POV again. He again mouths wordlessly, just before the Examiner reads the question. After a pause:)

**QUINN & BARRY:** (_off screen_) **Done**!

(Cut to shot of Daria. She's frowning even harder now. She pulls her eyes away, toward the stage, for a few moments. As Daria's preoccupied by what's happening on stage, cut to shot of Phelps. At one point, he reaches into his pocket and removes a pen with a calligraphy tip. He scribbles something down on a scrap of paper, then slides the pen back in.)

(Fade-out. Fade-in to show the score tied up, and one question left [of course]. Cut to shot of the audience. There are **still** many people dozing, but even more people now look tense, and there are several muted cheers heard around the auditorium. Cut to shot of the mathletes, intensely at work on a very difficult problem. Pan over each of their faces, focusing, in particular, on Quinn's and the Grove Hills' students. After a few tense moments: )

**TEAMS LAWNDALE & GROVE HILLS:** **Done**!!!

(A gasp throughout the audience, and several more tense moments as the Examiner walks with torturous speed to check the answers from both sides. After several more tense seconds:)

**EXAMINER:** Lawndale is **correct**! Grove Hills is **wrong**! Lawndale wins!

(Several of the tense people now release suppressed cheers. Smatterings of applause are heard throughout the room -- not as much as one might hear at a football rally, or something, but enough to show that a great many people were not indifferent to the mathletes' efforts. Jane wakes up from her nap, starts clapping. Daria, meanwhile, glances over in Phelps's direction again. Li has turned around to face him.)

**MS. LI:** I **must** sayyy, Mr. Phelps, this is **very** impressive. Who'd've thought **mathletics** could actually be... entertaining?? Keep up the good winning -- I mean **work**!

**PHELPS:** (_smirking_) I certainly intend to.

(Resume shot of Daria, looking annoyed. Cut to shot of the stage. On the Grove Hills side, Graham is crying, his head buried in his arms on the table.)

**GRAHAM:** (_to his teammates_) (_sniff, sniff_) Don't LOOK at meee!!

(Meanwhile, the Lawndale side is congratulating each other. Quinn hangs back a little, but she seems, at least for the time being, as grateful toward her teammates for all of their effort as they are to her. But as the adrenaline wears off, her fears return. Quinn looks off screen, and wilts a little. Cut to shot of the audience from her POV: the 3 Js are nowhere to be found, and Stacy and Tiffany still sit there awkwardly. Resume shot of Quinn. She gets a bleak look on her face, and doesn't even notice when Barry, Clarence, and Squiggley make a clumsy effort to carry her off the stage in victory.) 

(_fade-out. fade-in to: _) 

SCENE 8 (_Morgendorffer house, that evening_)

(_Shot of the outside._)

**QUINN:** (_to Stacy, mustering a cheery tone_) You don't think too many people are made at me, do you?

(Cut to shot of Quinn lying on her bed, cordless phone to her ear, the door to her room partially open.)

**STACY:** (_from the receiver_) I don't know.

**QUINN:** (_quickly_) I mean Joey, Jeffy and the third one called me, like, an hour after I got home and I arranged dates with all three. Brittany said she wasn't mad, in fact she thought it was kinda **neat**, and so did Angie and Lisa, who've **always** admired me, even before I was their head cheerleader. Maybe Tori and Brooke hate me, but I don't really like **them** too well anyway, so I don't care. And Sandi hasn't said anything. 

**STACY:** (_neutral-toned_) That's good.

**QUINN:** (_brow creasing with worry_) But just the same, I was really concerned about what you and Tiffany might think about me being on the **math** squad, so don't you see why I said those things about the bone marrow transplant and stuff?

**STACY:** Um... yeah. I see.

**QUINN:** (_most appealing tone_) But I **have** been neglecting you, so what say tomorrow we go shopping for summer evening wear?

(_Beat_)

**STACY:** Sure. (_Bt_) If you're not too busy.

**QUINN:** Geek brigade is practically **over**, Stacy. And then things'll be back to normal, **right**?? (_uneasy laugh, waits for a reply._)

(Cut to shot of Daria, standing outside the door, having heard this last bit.)

**DARIA:** I'm afraid not even **you** know the answer to that one.

**** THE END [roll the credits.........................]

COMMENTARY

[I'm going to **try** and make this shorter than usual, since I include a snippet of "The Age of Cynicism" at the end. Wish me luck: I'll need it.]

The minority of DWU fans who've confessed to hating Quinn as much as they love my writing will be thrilled to know that this is my **last** Quinn's-self-discovery fanfic. Heh, it's not because I've "seen the light," as some of you might hope -- far from it. It's because by DWU #16, Quinn has come full circle. 

In "Rose-Colored Lenses" and "Cheered Down," she saw **some** value in studying, but not enough to convince her that it was worth sacrificing her popularity. Things started to change in "Of Absolute Value," when Quinn actually **did** sacrifice her big moment in the sun to study for a make-up math exam. But one gets the feeling her motives were tailored toward making Jake happy rather than because she felt any burning passion for her subject. In "Erin the Head," it's briefly shown that Quinn did not **totally** hate having to work with Mr. Phelps after school. And by "Charge of the Math Brigade," Quinn has learned to love math.

Yet ironically, this is not a completely **positive** thing. ; > Now we're left with the following questions: 

****Is Quinn **really** as smart as Phelps has suggested in previous fics? 

****What is Phelps up to? Is he a force of good or evil? (And don't just assume you know based on the clues I've presented in this fic; I always try to surprise people. ; >)

****Is Daria properly concerned, or is a bit of sibling jealousy at work within her?

****Would Quinn's total plunge into math, at the expense of everything else, be a positive thing?

These questions will matter a little or a lot to you, depending upon how much you give a damn about Quinn as a character. And I'd like to take this moment to clarify **my** feelings toward Quinn. Yes, she is one of my favorite characters, and I take great interest in her development. But that does **not** mean I overlook her character flaws. She can be beat-your-head-against-the-wall shallow, as in "Psycho Therapy" (_which I'll get to in a minute_). She can be incredibly thoughtless. **I** would like to see her get some punishment or show **some** remorse for having called Daria her cousin these past four seasons. Sometimes I want to shake her when she commits a mental lapse, the way she did when she gave away the bail money in "Speedtrapped." (And during those times, I want to shake the **writers**, too, since they can't seem to make up their **minds** whether Quinn is totally shallow or marginally compassionate, street smart or an airhead, gutsy and competitive or a **jellyfish**.)

But I see Quinn as someone with potential. And I suspect the writers don't intend to keep her one-dimensional, especially taking into account that Season Four seems to carry a theme of "re-examining your identity," as was the case with Daria in "Partner's Complaint," Jane in "The 'F' Word," and Helen in "Psycho Therapy." Quinn may yet show a glimmer of depth, the likes of which we haven't seen since "Monster," in "Groped By An Angel." I'm not going to assume anything; I'm keeping my fingers crossed. (I voiced similar thoughts about "Speedtrapped" when it aired, and I don't even want to **think** about what went wrong there. Not right now. ; >)

On top of having potential, I see Quinn as inherently more **troubled** than Daria. While all signs suggest that Daria is fairly grounded, one cannot say the same for Quinn. That's why, I think, there are so many fanfics that have her getting raped or taking on a completely new identity; her life is one big question mark. Thus, I feel as though Quinn, as a character, needs more love and attention so that she can be set right. Many fans refuse to let go of their scorn of her, so **I** like to pick up the slack. Kind of like a mother who loves her kid unconditionally, but is not blind to her problems. I mean **someone** has to pay attention to that girl, because her parents certainly don't. Quinn may get plenty of material goods, but compared to Daria, she's rarely asked about her day, or about what she's feeling, or if she needs to talk. Part of the problem might be her stand-offish, I'm-in-control demeanor, the kind that keeps Quinn from wanting to be touched in any meaningful way. But how the hell did she **get** that way if not because of her parents? Whatever made them pay so much attention to Daria has certainly not worked in Quinn's favor. I've long suspected it, but Helen's "I don't even want to **think**" line from "Psycho Therapy" blew the lid off the popular notion that **Daria** is the neglected one in the Morgendorffer family. I would like to read Helen's line as a sign that she's woken up to the fact that Quinn needs **help**; but I'm afraid it could also be a sign that she's given up on her. 

Help is what Quinn needs if she's ever going to amount to anything. And in order for Quinn to reach the level where she's at in my continuum, several significant things would have to happen. 

  1. She'd have to learn that she could have a life **beyond** popularity (_something which was instigated by her getting glasses_). 
  2. Her parents would have to get more involved in her education (_as in "Of Absolute Value"_). And 
  3. Quinn would have to find a teacher or friend or **sibling** who "believed" in her. But until that happens, Quinn will probably never see the light, which would be a shame. Even if it's revealed on the show that she's not as smart as Daria, she's **definitely** not a lost cause.

**Moving on to mathletics:** **why** mathletics? I'm not sure. ; > I figured the mathletics squad would be the perfect vehicle for accelerating the trends (_no pun intended_) we've seen up 'til now. Quinn's growing irritation with her Fashion Club minions; her fear of losing popularity; her struggle to not only accept math, but to like it. Plus, it also reveals a delicious bit of irony:

(_From "Cheered Down":_)

**DARIA:** Quinn, there're **lots** of things you could do.

**QUINN:** But nothing that's as good! What -- join the math brigade or the French club or... **taxidermy**?? (_shudders._)

Ohhh how things change.

That said, I'll confess that like any good author, I've made up and embellished a **lot** about mathletics. Thank Mike Quinn for that which is accurate (_see Acknowledgements_). Also, thank "Freaks and Geeks" (_THE coolest show aside from "Daria"!!!_) for providing the info. about first chair and the petty bickering of mathletes. ; > 

Now on to ****Points of Interest****...

**Quinn in "Psycho Therapy":** Aside from Helen's remark, I wanted to pause on Quinn's show of compassion... or lack of it. Yes, I was annoyed by the lack of sympathy our little niblet showed for Helen after she was practically moved to tears by the role play scene. I have no explanation, other than that Quinn was intended for comic relief in that episode. Bu-ut, as I pointed out on the ODMB, Quinn **did** show marginal concern when Daria ate sugar tarts and chocolate cake for breakfast. That **has** to count for **something**. 

Or maybe she just didn't want to be sisters with a blimp...

**Bringin' Up Barry:** I've been wanting to bring Barry back in a significant way since "'Shipped Out." I figured there was no better fic than one in which several characters of my own creation appeared. ; > Why did I choose him, Squiggley, and Clarence over other nerds that actually **had** appeared on "Daria"? Lessee... because it's already been proven that Artie is not a student at Lawndale (_and somehow I suspect he's no student, period_). And Ted wouldn't work because Quinn said that he was sort of popular in "The New Kid," so it's unlikely she'd find him all that repulsive if they worked together on the mathletics squad. Plus, with the exception of Barry, I needed nerds whose personalities weren't **so** flashy that they demanded lots of screen time and would distract from the Phelps intrigue. In essence, Clarence and Squiggley are Tiffany and Stacy to Barry's Sandi or Quinn.

**Tom reference:** I just happened to mention in "Of Absolute Value" that Mr. Phelps had transferred to Lawndale High from a prep school. And **Daria** just happened to mention that Tom went to a "preparatory academy" in "Partner's Complaint." One day a light bulb lit up in my head, and I thought, "Why not **connect** the two somehow?" So Jane's reference to Tom having had Phelps **will** become significant in future fics.

**Where's Sandi?:** In case you thought that after "Primarily Color" she would be cozy with the Fashion Club once more, you ought to know me better than that. ; > What she's up to will be addressed not too far down the road, probably in DWU #20.

A brief ****THE MYSTERIES OF****, having to do with the name on my e-mail address (_see below_)...

Many have asked me why I chose "scar" as my nick. Wellll, long story. See, I got the e-mail account when I first started U.C. Berkeley in 1995, back when the Internet was **still** sort of new, strange terrain. I was told it was the territory of single male antisocial computer geeks who would easily harass you if they knew you were female. "Ha, I know how I can fool them!" I thought. So I choose an aggressive, masculine name: scar. Of course, someone would later point out to me that one need only do a name check to figure out that I **am** a girl, but I didn't know that then, so oh well. 

Anyway, it doesn't matter now...

ANNOUNCING MY NEW E-MAIL ADDRESS!!! Due to the fact that I'm no longer a Berkeley student, I have to retire my scar@uclink4 address at some point in time.  So as of JULY 10th, my new address will be:

wild_kl@hotmail.com

At least until I find something better.  I'll keep my other account **just** in case something happens, but it is no longer my main account. Good-bye scar! I'll miss you! 

****Acknowledgements****

I want to thank Mike Quinn, former mathlete extraordinaire, for being my consultant on this fic... even if I ended up fictionalizing quite a lot anyway. ; > The math problems he sent prevented me from making up a bunch of mumbo-jumbo when I needed formulas. And also special thanks to Canadibrit, who braved reading the rough **rough** version of this fic (_on binder paper, literally_) when we met in London, **and** for giving me a good suggestion or two. And thanks to Chad Page for being such a good live audience, allowing me to realize that yes! the nerds **were** funny enough. **Phew**

****NOW Here's Something New****

Okay, here's the most presentable portion of the yet-unfinished DWU #15. **Yes** I have written more than what I'm presenting here; but that stuff might yet be cut or changed. And **please** don't think of this as a SEQUEL or a PREQUEL to anything. It borrows from one or two sources, and gently (_and I mean **gently**_) pokes fun at other sources, but I aim for this to be original... or at least as original as a fic in the flashback genre can possibly be. ; > I delayed putting it out because 

  1. it was a **complicated** sucker, not just because of the history, but because I wanted to realistically portray Helen and Jake's relationship with Helen's parents, which isn't easy, considering they haven't shown up yet. Also 
  2. #15 is pretty stand-alone, and after such a gap in DWU's, due mostly to "Abruptly Amy (_The Spinoff That Never Was_)," I wanted to do a fic that would move the continuum along.

Anyway, without further ado...

THE AGE OF CYNICISM -- by Kara Wild

**ACT ONE**

SCENE 1 (_Morgendorffer house, noon on a Sunday_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Daria lounging on her bed in her room, the cordless phone pressed against her ear. She wears her usual deadpan expression.)

**DARIA:** So I guess that means Aunt Amy's not my natural-born mother after all.

**JANE:** (_from the receiver_) And that you **weren't** the product of a torrid love affair between Helen and a man who obviously wasn't Jake.

**DARIA:** Damn normal life.

(Cut to split screen, Jane on the left, Daria on the right. Daria cocks an eyelid wearily.)

**JANE:** You mean to tell me **this** is how your parents have forced you to spend Sunday? Reliving priceless childhood memories which you couldn't **possibly** relive because you weren't **alive** yet to have such memories??

**DARIA:** Even more frightening: this was one of their better uses of quality time. (_makes a face._) It only gets worse from there...

(Wavy fade-out. Fade-in to an earlier scene of the four Morgendorffers sitting around the kitchen table, shortly after breakfast. Jake and Daria read the paper; Quinn flips through an issue of Waif. Helen, of course, has the cordless phone welded to her ear and is listening intently to the speaker on the other end.) 

**HELEN:** Mmm-hmmm... mmm-hmmm... (_crooning_) Oh we're **so** happy for you. This is just **wonderful** news! (_laughs a wee bit uneasily._) And twins... are you sure? (_Pause_) Oh, how... wonderful!

(Daria lowers the paper ever so slightly, wearing a skeptical expression. The forced nature of her mom's enthusiasm has not escaped her.)

**HELEN:** Well we'll give you **all** the support you need over these coming months. (_Pause_) All right... all right. Now you take care of yourself. Bye. (_hangs up the phone._)

**JAKE:** Wow, Eric's having twins? (_raises a thumb._) Way to **go**, big man!

**HELEN:** Eric?? Don't be silly, Jake: Eric's not **married**. (_She laughs a little too hard at this one._)

**DARIA:** Your point being?

**HELEN:** That was **Erin**. Our **niece**. (_forehead creases with concern._) She's pregnant.

**DARIA/JAKE/QUINN:** (_frowning, recalling the events in "Erin the Head"_) Mmmmmmmmm... 

**QUINN:** Eww! You mean she's gonna be all **bloated** for nine months?!

**DARIA:** And that's the part she'll remember most fondly. 

**HELEN:** (_rolling her eyes_) **Honestly**, Daria.

**DARIA:** After a daily dose of shrieking and nights of insomnia drive her into the mental institution.

**HELEN:** (_firmly_) Erin will be a wonderful mother. I'm sure of it. 

**JAKE:** **Yeah**, kiddo! And ol' Brian'll learn how to be a great dad!

**DARIA:** And just what is your basis of comparison? 

**JAKE:** Well **hey**: we figured out how to raise **you**, didn't we? (_Daria regards him with a deadpan expression._) Didn't we??

**HELEN:** Of **course** we did. (looks at Jake and giggles a little, then glances at Daria with a distinctly maternal expression.) Oh God, Jake, do you remember what we went through the months before we had Daria? The high hopes, the anxiety --?

**JAKE:** The want ads, the empty bank account... (_chuckles, then glances at Daria with the same expression as Helen._)

(_Cut to close-up of Daria, armed with a wary expression._)

**DARIA:** (_off screen VO from the present_) The looks. The minute I saw them, I knew I was trapped. Unless...

(_Pan over to close-up of an irritated Quinn, her arms folded._)

**QUINN:** We're **not** gonna sit here an' talk about **Daria** are we?? Gaaawd! Why does **everything** have to be about her?! Why can't we talk about **my** upcoming birth??

(Cut to close-up of Helen. Her eyes trail away thoughtfully as wavy lines appear, indicating another flashback. When they disperse, we see her several years younger, seated on an examining table. A doctor stands beside her.)

**DOCTOR:** Well, Mrs. Morgendorffer, it looks as though another one's on the way.

**HELEN:** (_clearly panicked_) A **second** child?! But I just had the **first** one! This **can't** be true -- it's going to **completely** ruin my five-year plan!

(_Wavy fade-out. Fade-in to Helen of the present. She laughs uneasily._)

**HELEN:** (_to Quinn_) Oh-ho, sweetie: we'll have **plenty** of time for that. But for now...

**DARIA:** (_thought VO_) Damn.

(Wavy fade-out into flashback once **again**. Fade-in to shot of a rusty brown Chevrolet station wagon, obviously dating back to the early-70's, obviously second-hand. A "Carter/Mondale 1980" sticker is spread across the bumper. As it continues to travel down a road, cut to the inside. There we see Helen and Jake as they looked in late summer, 1980. Helen has Farrah Fawcett hair, while Jake's hair has been tamed down from its '70's fro. As Jake drives, he whistles to John Lennon's "Imagine," which plays on the radio. Helen looks as though she has just sucked poison.)

**HELEN:** (_insincere_) Who'd have thought that Keenak and Seren-- I mean, Calvin and Vanessa -- could have **such** an adorable child??

**JAKE:** Yeah, I'll say. (_chuckles, imitates a baby's speech._) Hi-hi, Unkoo Jakie. I wuvoo. Pull ma finger.

**HELEN:** It's just such a shame that his parents have... you know.

**JAKE:** Sure do. (_Bt_) What?

**HELEN:** Sold **out**. (_sighs heavily._) After five short years, they've become pawns of the Establishment. **Mortgaged**, credit card debts -

**JAKE:** (_getting angry_) Damn Calvin and his **neat-o** Japanese car! (_He pounds the steering wheel, causing the horn to blare._)

**HELEN:** (_sighing_) Just **what** sort of legacy will they be passing on to their kid?? At least you and I can take **pride** in our lifestyle.

(As she says this, the station wagon pulls up in front of a brown stucco apartment complex. It looks in desperate need of renovation, from the sagging roof to the gravel "driveway" in front. Helen and Jake climb out.)

**HELEN:** (_determined_) We're the same people we always were. Our principles haven't changed since our Middleton days, have they?

**JAKE:** (_to himself_) Wonder if old Cal'll know how **I** could swing a car like his...?

(Cut to a later shot of Helen and Jake in what appears to be a combined kitchen and living room. The walls are covered in peeling wallpaper that is an absolutely putrid shade of yellow, while the carpet is brown shag. Only from the Seventies. We see Helen pacing around with the phone to her ear, dragging a super-long extension cord. Jake, meanwhile, has been lounging on the frayed avocado green couch, reading the newspaper. Helen now stops and lays the phone back on its hook. She walks over to the couch and leans over it to look at her husband.)

**JAKE:** (_reading an article_) **Music** television?? Like **that'll** ever catch on!

**HELEN:** (_reflective_) Jake... (_motions to him to lay the paper aside._) I was thinking: what if **we** had a child?

**JAKE:** Hey, that'd be **neat**, honey! But there's no way that would happen.

**HELEN:** Why not?

**JAKE:** Because don't you remember what you said? That we couldn't have kids until **I** found myself a job and your career took off?? 

**HELEN:** Oh, well **yes**, but...

**JAKE:** I'm still looking for work, and your career's nowhere **near** where you want it to be.

(_Helen gets a look of irritation on her face._)

(Cut to shot of Helen and Jake still later, lying in bed. The sounds around them indicate that their walls are paper-thin and that their neighbors have strange habits. Crashing noises can be heard from one corner, accompanied by shouts of anger. From above, we hear an old stranger singing wobbly, and off-key, "I Wanna Rock With You" by Michael Jackson.)

**JAKE:** Heyyy, the Singing Man finally chose something current! (_thumbs up._)

**HELEN:** (_trying to ignore it_) Uh-huh. (_leans closer to Jake, touches his hand._) Jake? About what I said...

**JAKE:** Hmm?

**HELEN:** About us waiting to have children until **after** we'd met our career goals? (_Bt_) Well... goals **can** change.

**JAKE:** What d' you mean?

(_Beat_)

**HELEN:** (_straining to find the right words_) Well... when you see that a greater good could be met... you, well you **realize** that your own **personal** goals don't matter qu-

**JAKE:** What are you trying to say, Helen??

**HELEN:** I want to have a baby.

(_Beat_)

**JAKE:** Ah.

**HELEN:** (_insistent_) I think we could be **good** parents, Jake. We'd do better at instilling our child with core principles than Calvin and Vanessa.

**JAKE:** Yeah. I could teach our kid a thing or two about the ol' game of baseball...

**HELEN:** To stand proud, be independent-minded, not give in to the Man.

**JAKE:** And basketball, and how to shave and how to ask a girl out...

**HELEN:** To carry on the Revolution. When you think about it, it's almost a sin for us **not** to have a child.

**JAKE:** Unlike **some** fathers who never EVER taught their sons ANY of those things!

**HELEN:** So what do you say?

**JAKE:** (_taking her by the hands_) Let's DO it!!!

(Helen leans closer, and she and Jake start making out. The Singing Man's chopped-up rendition of "I Wanna Rock With You" gives way to the actual song. The screen fades to black.)

**JANE:** (_off screen VO from the present_) Soooo... if I understand correctly, your parents decided to have kids because their **friends** were having kids?

**DARIA:** (_off screen VO from the present_) That's the gist of it, yeah.

[This fanfic is the property of Kara Wild, copyright July 2000. All rights reserved.] 


End file.
